Gnarled Hearts
by Skylove14
Summary: Sarah thought it was all a dream. Everything-from the goblins to the labyrinth to the infamous Goblin King himself. But Jareth won't let her forget, and he has made a plan to take revenge and make her his, to give the Goblin Kingdom a new Goblin Queen.
1. Preface

Preface

_Once upon a time there was a Goblin King who ruled over all of the Goblin Kingdom. He was a clever and powerful king, and was greatly respected by all his subjects. But one day, something happened that the king did not expect. He fell in love with a human girl. He would watch her in his crystal globe for days on end, delighting himself in her imaginative fantasies. He decreed that should she ever wish for anything, that she would have it._

_The girl was kind but lonely, and often felt distant from her father and his new wife. They had a child, a boy, and although the girl loved him very much, she sometimes felt resentful towards him, feeling that everyone paid more attention to him, and had forgotten her. She knew of the Goblin King's gift, but dared not use it, for she knew that she would never truly mean her brother's abduction. But one day, she felt so angry and burdened that she had shouted out her wish for her brother to be taken away. She had instantly regretted it, but it was too late. The Goblin King came and took the child away. _

_She begged and begged for his return, but the King refused. He tried to sway her from her pleas, but she wouldn't give in. The King still loved her, and couldn't bear to see her upset, so he told her that, if she truly wanted to save her brother, that she would have to face the dangers untold and the hardships unnumbered within his Labyrinth and rescue the babe from his castle in 13 hours. He did everything to ensure that she would fail, but in the end, she defeated the maze and took her brother back._


	2. Plots, Parcels, and Passports

Chapter 1

Sarah was in the park again. She still adorned the mint green, handmade gown and her hair was still entwined with ribbons and wild flowers. The sun beat down on her mercilessly as she yet again stalked silently towards the same old oak tree. Her voice was soft, yet still commanded the attention of her audience as she spoke,

"Give me the child," she said. "Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City, to take back the child you have stolen. My will is as strong as yours and my kingdom as great. You have no power over me."

She had no problem remember that line anymore, not since the dream.

She shook her head. Stop that, she told herself, you need to concentrate. She cleared her thoughts of the past and focused wholly on her part, as her mother had taught her to do, and raised her arms, as if receiving a prized possession. She tilted her head and gave a face of longing and love as she imagined an unseen baby being put into her arms. All of a sudden, her expression changed to shock as something hurled itself against her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. Her arms embraced the assailant as she fell to the ground, laughing.

"Do it again! Do it again!" Toby cried as he nuzzled her stomach tightly. Sarah giggled as she heaved herself up and pulled the 4-year-old into her lap.

"Why?" she asked. "You never let me finish, anyway."

"Yea, _huh_!" He said, "I'm the child, remember? I'm supposed to run into your arms. You just never catch me right and it ruins the game."

"Oh, really?" She said, raising her eyebrow at him. "When I say, 'give me the child' I expect him to be placed into my arms, not running into me like a linebacker and bruising my ribs." She tousled his golden hair playfully and hugged him. Merlin, who had been watching the scene with amusement, got up and pranced over to them, giving them both a wet kiss and sat beside them, panting pointedly.

Sarah got the hint. "C'mon, Toby, it's getting hot out here. We'd better go home before Merlin gets a heat stroke. We'll play it again tomorrow, okay?" At Toby's assent, she got up and grasped his hand as they made there way out of the park and toward home. _The Labyrinth_ was one of Toby's favorite stories and he was forever asking Sarah to tell him more about the goblins and the Underground. She wasn't quite sure if what everything she told him about was true, but she enjoyed telling him just the same. He was always especially thrilled when she acted out scenes from it. He had once told her that she looked like she was the princess from the book because she played the part so well. What she didn't tell him was that it was because of a strange and vivid dream she had nearly three years prior. She had dreamt that she actually _was _the princess and that Toby was the brother she had wished away.

She was right glad she had it, too, because when she woke up, she realized what a dramatic little brat she had been. She realized how unfair she had been to her stepmother and how awful she had been treating her brother and ever since, she had tried to better her relationship with them. Although her relationship with Irene was still shaky (because even with all the drama on her part aside, Irene was still quite overbearing) her relationship with Toby could never have been better. The two were as thick as thieves.

_But still_ she thought, almost mournfully _it would have been nice if the dream _had _been real, then I could've kept all the amazing friends I'd made._ Ludo, Hoggle, Sir Didymus, even Ambrosius, the Sir Didymus' steed. She missed them all as if it hadn't been a dream. And then there was Jareth. Her heart still thudded at the mere thought of him and her stomach twisted itself into knots that she couldn't decide were pleasant or not. She could definitely call him her first crush, even though he had been nothing more than a dream. The chemistry she felt with him was unbelievable and had affected any and all of her relationships. She had had boyfriends, yes, but none of them had ever made them feel quite like she had with Jareth. She always went into a relationship with high hopes and then ended them with disappointment. Her longest relationship had only been about 3 weeks and that had been with the star football player that all the girls had gone crazy over. They'd gone even crazier when they'd found out that _she'd_ dumped _him_. She shivered at the memory of being cornered by all those girls in the locker room, demanding answers that she couldn't have explained even if she'd understood. Was it a plausible reason to end a relationship because you didn't feel the same as you had with a dream character? Because no one even came _close_ to it? It felt valid enough, but at this rate, she was never going to get _anywhere_ if she didn't stop comparing every guy she met to a figment of her imagination.

Before she knew it, she was standing at the end of her driveway. Her thoughts had taken up so much of her attention that Toby may well have been kidnapped right in front of her and she wouldn't have noticed. Unsettled by that thought, she shook her head to dispel it. Toby, knowing it was safe to let her hand go, took off for the house, Merlin close behind him. He went for the door but found it locked, as his mother and father were gone at work. He turned to Sarah and watched her impatiently, waiting for her to arrive with the only other key. She ignored his stares and went for the mailbox and pulled out the mail. She flipped through the envelopes as she made her way up towards the door. Junk. Junk. Letter for Dad and Irene. Junk. Electric bill. Letter for her…

Sarah stopped just before she reached Toby and Merlin. On the front of the heavy, expensive parchment-like envelope was large, loopy lettering addressing her and she recognized the handwriting. Mom.

"Come on, Sarah, open the door. I want to watch Transformers!" Toby whined.

Sarah looked at him reproachfully, "Toby…"

The boy's expression immediately changed from petulant to sweet and pleading, "Pretty please, Sarah?"

Sarah rolled her eyes and unlocked the door. Toby let out a whoop of joy before opening the door and running into the family room to watch his favorite cartoon. Sarah paid no mind to the loud noise of the action cartoon as she sat down at the kitchen table. Merlin went to his water bowl for a much needed drink before settling next to her. She patted his head absent-mindedly, then went back to the letter. It was certainly new that her mother was sending letters. She hadn't contacted Sarah for so long and usually she just picked up the phone and rang her. She traced the lettering on the envelope before turning it over and carefully opening the sealed lid. Unexpected dread filled her stomach as she took her time surgically separated the paper so as not to ruin the paper. She found it odd even as she was doing it. Normally, she'd have just ripped through the paper without a second thought, but for some reason she felt the insane need to treat this letter as if it wasn't just some sheet of expensive parchment, but a sensitive bomb ready to go off at any moment.

Finally, she unclasped the cover and pulled out the card. It was definitely expensive, a trademark of Jeremy's, the ivory card engraved in gold with the words 'Congratulations' on the front. When she opened the card a little business card fell out of it, naming some hotel that Sarah couldn't pronounce. Must be where mom is staying. She scanned the handmade calligraphy that was definitely _not_ Linda's before beginning to read,

_Dearest Sarah,_

_I'm so sorry, I know I haven't contacted you in a long while, what with Jeremy and I being so busy with our new movie shoot in Venice, but I'm writing in the most happiest of occasions. Jeremy and I are getting married! Isn't that wonderful? Jeremy and I both agreed that we didn't want a long engagement, so we are getting married in about three weeks, on the 25__th__ of June. _

_Of course, I would never get married without my darling baby there, so I'm inviting you to fly to Venice with us for a few weeks. You'll get to be on the set with us and meet plenty of gorgeous Venetian boys that'll be working with Jeremy and I. Sound's awesome, right? Oh, and we'll be staying in this gorgeous hotel that sits right on the water; the view is going to take your breath away! I'm going to leave the hotel number with the card that comes with this so that you can call me. Just say your right words, Sarah, and Jeremy and I will come get you in his private plane faster than you can say, 'Venice'. _

_Love you, baby,_

_Mother_

_P.S. Sorry if you can't read this. Jeremy insisted that the letter be professionally written because he says you deserve the 'princess' treatment. Isn't he a doll?_

Sarah froze and the feeling of dread that had formed in her stomach spread throughout her body until she thought she was going to be sick. Jeremy and mom were getting married? So soon? Why? It wasn't as if she didn't want them married—she really liked Jeremy, and took to him much more than she did Irene—but for some reason she just couldn't see them _married_. And then there was the whole Venice thing. Why did she feel as if she were signing her death warrant if she even considered it? She tried to shake the feeling, but it wouldn't go away. She set the letter down and went to the bathroom to search for the acid reflux medicine to see if it could calm her nerves.

Of course she would go. This was her mother, getting married to the man of her dreams. It would just be horrible _not _to go, and she would get to tour an amazing city on two A-list actors' salaries. Who wouldn't want that? But she still couldn't shake that feeling of doom that she had. Suddenly, Sarah was struck with a burst of angry determination. She straightened up and glared at her reflection in the mirror. She was _going _to Venice and she was _going _to have a good time, consequences be damned. She pocketed the business card and scanned the letter a last time before going to her room. She didn't notice the words; the small, inconsequential words that had been used on her long ago, words that had in the past and would yet again send her on an adventure that would change her life.

_Say your right words, Sarah…_

_---_

The goblins watched their king as he paced the length of his throne room. Although they had been told to prepare the throne room for an important guest, none of them could concentrate on the task. For a whole month Jareth had been smiling and that was what had scared them. It wasn't the clever, mischievous grin they had all associated him with, but a small, subtle yet outrageously dangerous smirk that had left them all on edge. Being creatures of mischief, the goblins welcomed any form of play, from harmful to just plain irritating. It was all good fun to them, and the King's smile suggested much amusement. But he had yet to tell them what he was smiling about, and it was driving them all mad with anticipation. Needless to say, they could hardly concentrate on the mundane task of cleaning the castle.

But the king wasn't having laziness. He turned to them and barked, "Well, come on, then. Get back to work!" For effect, he produced a crystal orb in his hand and tossed it into the middle of the room, well enough away from him. It hit the floor with a _clink_ before exploding in a puff of yellow smoke. To the goblin's dismay, the smoke left to reveal a thin layer of equally yellow dust on every surface and goblin in the room. The only person still clean was Jareth, who laughed heartily at their misfortune. The goblins looked about the room at each other, unsure of whether to laugh at their own misfortune, as well. The Goblin King had indeed played a very good joke on them, but he could also be very flippant in his mood. They could very well get dipped into the Bog of Eternal Stench for laughing at the wrong time.

Jareth noticed that they weren't laughing. "Well?"

Immediately upon his approval, the whole room roared with laughter, sending dust into the air with their movement. He allowed them their fun for a moment before he shouted, "Quiet! Now you have more to clean, so get busy, or it's the Bog for all of you!"

They stopped laughing and watched him warily before busying themselves with cleaning the new mess of the throne room. Jareth watched them all, mirth evident in his mismatched eyes. He swept himself out of the room dramatically and walked down the stone corridor. He passed door after numerous door, the smile never leaving his face. He would get her back, he thought, maliciously delighted with his new game; he would get her back and he would make her pay for what she did to him. _Sarah_. The name was honey on his tongue, yet it stung as if he'd swallowed the bee that made it, as well. The wench—the beautiful wench—who had beaten his Labyrinth. The emerald-eyed vixen who had defied him and had viciously rejected his love. She thought she could get away, did she? Thought that by immunizing herself from his power that she was free of him forever? Never had anyone been so horribly wrong. He would never let her go, especially now that he had a way to get her back, in more ways than one. He knew very well that she'd written him and the Underground off as a dream, and he was going to make sure she regrets that sorry mistake. She was going to beg for redemption by the time he was done with her.

As he made a turn down another corridor and up several flights of stairs, he remembered that night 3 years ago. The night when she had refused his offer and defused his power over her. The night when she had inadvertently turned something on inside him, something that went far beyond Jareth, the Trickster King of the Goblins. He learned the hard way what happened to a Fae that became heartbroken. He felt twisted and gnarled inside, where he thought his heart might once have been. The only one he had ever truly loved—a mortal even!—had shot down his feelings without a thought. He still felt love for her (if one could call it that) but now it accompanied the intense urge to tear her apart and showed her the torture which he rejection had inflicted upon him. His lips turned into larger, animalistic leer as he reached a pair of large, gold encrusted doors that led to the King's Suite. It was here that the very foundation of his scheme had been created and the steps of it carried out. And, he believed, it would be the very place where he would enjoy the delicious fruits of his labor. He licked his lips in wicked anticipation. He closed the door behind and strode over to his desk, where a crystal ball floated just above it.

It looked like any of his other crystal balls, no larger than the palm of his hand and glimmering softly in brightly light room. The only thing different about it was the swirling dark aura surrounding it ominously. He picked up the ball and twirled it in his hand expertly before turning it and calling forth an image into it. He watched as a small figure appeared in the ball, surrounded by three others. It was a girl, not quite child yet not quite woman, with her back facing him, giving him a full length of her cascading dark hair that stopped suggestively just above her shapely backside. He had no doubt that Sarah was telling her family that she was going on a trip to the human city Venice for her mother's bonding.

Jareth grinned. Yes, he had planned that, as well. Everything, from his human counterpart, Jeremy's, proposal to Sarah's mother to the invitation to Sarah to the human city of Venice for the bonding was all premeditated from the start so that he could get Sarah right where he wanted her, which was in his castle, or, more preferably, in his bed. He felt a great swell of pride at his own cleverness and smiled as he placed the crystal back where he had gotten it before settling down into the desk chair. He sighed and started on the paperwork that he needed to get cleared before he could bring Sarah home. Preparing for such an important guest is hard work, he thought wryly.


	3. Realizations and Reunions

I'm a total dork; I was so anxious to get my story out that there was no introduction or disclaimer, so now, I'm making myself take the time, so Hello, everyone, I'm Taylor, and this is my second fanfic posted on here. I haven't finished my other one, because I've been wrapped up in this one as of late. I hope y'all like it. Reviews of all kinds are welcome: I like anything that could help me improve my stories. If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask me. I don't bite hard, I swear!

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Labyrinth; if I did, you'd bet your sweet buns there'd be a sequel!!!! However, it does belong to Jim Henson--Rest his soul--and company and Tristar Pictures. I do not own the idea or any characters recognized, but I DO own the original plot and original characters. Thank you very much!

Chapter 2

Sarah waited on the concrete landing strip with her dad, Irene, and Toby beside her, her large dirty brown duffle bag slung over her shoulder. She'd considered taking something more elegant to travel with, but she simply couldn't resist provoking Irene, who had started fussing over every detail of Sarah's trip as soon as she had told them a little over a week ago. While that had been mildly annoying, it soon became beyond what Sarah could bear when Irene started telling her what she _had_ to bring. There was no 'oh, maybe you ought to take this and this', it was essentially 'I packed your best suitcase for you. I put in all the clothes that I approve of and didn't pack you any books because I don't like that silly fantasy you read'. Sarah knew she wouldn't have won that fight, so last night she took out all the clothes had been packed and dumped them on her bed and chucked the suitcase into her closet. She pulled out her old duffle that had normally been used for camping trips and repacked with everything _she_ wanted. By the time Irene had realized what she had done, it was too late, for they were already in the car and driving to the airport. Sarah knew it was childish of her to go that far, but it brought a feeling of comforting satisfaction that she had outwitted her stepmother. Even now, as they stood there waiting for Jeremy and his private plane, Irene was still bristling and sending Sarah dark looks.

Toby wrapped his arms around Sarah's leg and looked up at her longingly, "Why can't I go, Sarah? I want to come with you." His bottom lip quivered.

Sarah resisted the urge to smile as she patted his head, "I'm sorry, love, but Venice really isn't a place for children. You would get bored within the first five minutes. I wouldn't even be going if it weren't for my mommy getting married." She was lying through her teeth, but she couldn't really tell a four year old that she was going to someplace fun while she left him here all alone.

He shook his head, "I don't care. If I'm with you, I won't be bored. I won't be annoying, I _promise._ I'll do anything you want, just let me come with you." Tears welled up in his large blue eyes.

Sarah's heart turned to putty. She hated when he played the bargaining routine. The tone in his voice made her want to agree to anything. She turned to her father for help. He smiled gently and reached down to scoop little Toby up in his arms. He placed him on his shoulders and spun around playfully in an attempt to cheer him up. It worked a little bit. Toby giggled softly but still had his lower lip jutted out into a pout.

A loud noise and a sleek black plane told her that Jeremy was here. Her heart leapt excitedly and she grinned widely as the plane skidded to a halt a good fifty feet away from them, although the wind that accompanied it still hit them full force. The door opened and the stairs dropped to the floor as a man with platinum silver hair peered out of the door, spotted Sarah's group, then waved.

Sarah walked towards the plane, her dad, Toby, and Irene in tow. The wind whipped her hair about her, nearly blinding her with its dark veil; she could barely see Jeremy as she walked up and hugged him.

"Sarah, darling, how are you? I've missed you." He said as he embraced her and kissed the top of her head.

"Good. And you?" she asked as she looked up at him.

"Never better." He replied. He released her from the hug yet still kept one arm around her as he turned to her father and stepmother, "Ah. Robert, Irene, how are you two today? Have you heard the happy news?"

If it was a barb, neither man showed it. Robert just smiled, "Hello, Jeremy. Sarah did indeed tell us about your engagement to Linda. Congratulations."

It was then that Sarah felt sorry for her father. Jeremy was most likely deliberately doing it to poke fun at him, to say_ look who I have and you don't_, yet her father was too mild to do anything about it even if he'd wanted to. She was going to have a nice long chat with Jeremy on the way to Venice. _I swear he can be so full of himself that I'd swear he was…_her thoughts trailed off as realization hit her. Jareth. _Oh, my_... she didn't finish. How could she not see it? The blonde hair, the mismatched eyes, the arrogant, slightly snobbish yet sweet and funny personality; _she'd used her mother's boyfriend—fiancée—as her dream crush. _She was vaguely disgusted as her view of Jeremy instantly _shifted_. It now felt awkward to be in his arms, now that she saw him as Jareth, not Jeremy. It wasn't the super rich, super attractive actor who held her, but the King of the Goblins with his mischievous eyes and sexy mouth. She felt herself blush at her thoughts and was glad that her wild hair obstructed any clear view of her cheeks. She was grateful when she had to pull herself out of Jareth's—Jeremy's—arm and hugged her father, kissed her stepmother's cheeks, and tousled Toby's hair from atop her father's shoulders.

"Love you, Toby. Don't get into much trouble while I'm gone." She said, squeezing his leg gently before turning back to Jar—Jeremy—and headed for the plane. She climbed up the stairs with him and turned to wave at her family one last time before she entered the posh cabin of the plane, the door closing behind her.

After the initial shock she'd felt at discovering the model used for Jareth, Sarah had managed quite well with coping with the revelation for the 8-hour trip. She even talked with Jeremy as if nothing had ever happened, playing cards and listening to the latest gossip of the entertainment world before sleeping for the rest of the flight. There she had reoccurring dreams about Jeremy in a poet's shirt and tight riding pants that left little to the imagination. In no time, it seemed, Jeremy was waking her up and telling her that they were about to land. She felt a slight tug on her heart and realized that she'd felt disappointed, as if discovering that Jeremy had been used as Jareth had meant that the dream wasn't real and never had been real. She pushed that thought away. Of course the dream hadn't been real. She'd known that already, but all the same, she felt that lingering regret.

Linda was there, a tiny woman who shared Sarah's thick, dark hair and creamy white heart-shaped face, smiling and waiting as the door opened. Sarah squealed with delight and flew down the stairs and into her mother's arms.

"Momma! I've missed you so much!" Sarah said, suddenly feeling like a child again.

Linda laughed, "I've missed you, too, baby. I'm sorry I couldn't come with Jeremy to pick you up: I had a shoot to do last night. But you had fun with Jeremy, didn't you?" she asked. It sounded hopeful even to Sarah's ears. This confused her. Did she think that Sarah didn't approve of Jeremy?

"Of course I did. I like Jeremy. He's funny." She said soothingly.

Relief was evident on Linda's face, "That's great!"

"Well, if you two are quite done with the reunion, how 'bout we go get some breakfast," Jeremy suggested, glancing once at the early morning sky.

Linda kissed his cheek, one arms still around Sarah, "Yes, yes, we'd better get going, Jeremy gets real grouchy without his cup of coffee in the morning," she whispered conspiratorially in Sarah's ear as they headed for the black limo parked and waiting for them.

Breakfast had been a circus. They'd tried going to a small restaurant outside the Venice in hopes of having a nice little family affair. However, paparazzi can be very clever if they need to be and Jeremy and Linda were definitely top priority on every rag's list. So trying to eat in privacy—right before the wedding day? As the Italians would say, "Forget about it!" The paparazzi had been following them ever since Linda came to pick Sarah and Jeremy up at the airport. Sarah could barely concentrate on her breakfast with all the lights flashing in her face and voices calling out, "Hey, over here! Give me a big smile!"

Even by the time they reached the hotel, Sarah was still red in the face. Linda patted her hand sympathetically, "I'm sorry, honey. I know you're not used to all this."

Jeremy was caught somewhere between amusement and irritation, "Cheeky little vermin. I wonder how they _alway_s know where to go?"

"Couldn't have been this big black limo you just _had_ to have that practically shouts 'disgustingly rich celebrity couple' all over it." Linda said sarcastically.

Jeremy grinned, "Well, like I always say, 'If you want it, get it and if you got it, flaunt it.'. How was I supposed to know that paparazzi could actually think?"

Sarah and Linda shared an amused look at Jeremy's words. They both knew very well that he loved the attention.

They had beaten the paparazzi here, but Jeremy figured only by a few moments, so Sarah went for the trunk, grabbed her stuff, and sprinted for the door. She didn't even have time to admire the building, although somewhere in all the rush she acknowledged its beauty.

A portly, balding Italian man came bounding up to them as they entered the Lobby, "_Benvenuto_, signorand signora. Welcome back to the _Palazzo Reale di Celestiale Sogni_. Ah, and you have brought your little one as well. Welcome, signorina! I am Signor Luca Porcellini, and if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." he said, taking Sarah's hand and kissed it. Sarah couldn't help but feel flattered under the attention.

"Can we get someone to carry the miss' bags?" Jeremy suggested in a cool voice.

The man's eyes went wide, "Oh, of course, signor!" he went to find a person, but her mother stopped him by his arm. She pulled his ear toward her mouth, whispering something that neither Jeremy nor Sarah could understand. They both shared a confused look as she smiled impishly at him and glanced toward Sarah. Mr. Porcellini followed her gaze and said, "Oh! I'll see what I can do, signora." He scuttled off.

Sarah looked at her mother questioningly, but she merely shrugged.

"You know, Jeremy, I can carry my bag by myself; I don't need help." Sarah said, turning away from her mother reluctantly.

Jeremy shook his head, "Not in this hotel. It's an insult to them, you see. As if you think they're not competent enough if you do it yourself. Besides, I wanted that man away from me as fast as possible. Disgusting little bootlicker."

"I thought you liked attention?" Sarah said absently as she looked at him. She then realized that she'd said that aloud and she turned bright red.

But Jeremy just laughed, "Yes, I do like attention, but everyone has that one person that just rubs them wrong and this man's blatant sniveling just irritates me to no end."

"Oh…" Sarah nodded her understanding. Suddenly, Mr. Porcellini appeared again and behind him was the bellboy. Sarah's eyes widened slightly in surprise. This boy, who could only be a year or two older than her, was very attractive. He was definitely Italian, with his olive skin and thick dark hair that fell in his chocolate eyes rebelliously. He was tall and even underneath his uniform you could see slender yet defined muscles. He looked like someone who belonged on the cover of _Vogue_ with a gorgeous female on his arm instead of in an unbecoming hotel uniform with stains of who knows what on his shirt. She felt Linda's gaze on her and turned to her mother, who was grinning mischievously. Sarah raised an eyebrow at her. She knew exactly what her mother was thinking and now she also knew _exactly_ what her mother had whispered to Mr. Porcellini. _Go get that totally gorgeous bellboy so that he can flirt with my daughter because she can't get anyone by herself. _ Well, Sarah thought with defiance, I may think he's attractive, but I refuse to go along with this scheme of yours.

"Here, miss, let me take those for you." He said, his voice low and husky and his accent evident. As he reached for her bag, he brushed against her deliberately. He sent her a smile that she guessed was supposed to be sexy, but she found it rather hard to react to it now that she knew her mother had arranged it and now that she was sure Mr. Porcellini had put him up to flirting with her.

"Thanks." She said shortly, taking the bag off of her shoulder and handing it to him. When he grabbed the strap from her, his hand touched hers and he grinned haughtily. In a swell of indignant anger, she dropped it abruptly in the air, forcing him to catch the full weight of the heavy duffle. Caught off guard, the bag pulled him harshly to the floor. He pulled up the bag with a small grunt and swung it over his shoulder as she had had it.

"Is there a problem?" she asked innocently, "Do you need any help?"

Behind her, her mother was watching her, shocked, and Jeremy was convulsing horribly while holding his face in his hand. Sarah could only assume he was trying hard not to laugh.

"No, I got it." He said, still smiling under his embarrassment.

"Well, then, let's go." She suggested, gesturing towards the elevator.

After they got into the room and the boy had left, Linda rounded on Sarah, "What's the matter with you? Paolo was just trying to be nice and welcome you and you completely blew him off!"

A small part of Sarah registered his name, but she was too livid to really care, "Well, excuse _me_ for being less than pleased that my rich mother is trying to set me up with some arrogant pretty boy with all the personality of a strutting peacock."

"And just what about him offends you so much?" Linda asked.

"What about him offends me?" Sarah echoed, shocked. "Oh, I don't know, maybe it's because I know that he's not being genuine at all."

"How do you know that?" her mother asked.

"Oh, come on, mom, I'm not stupid. I know you and I know how much you can tip on an actress' salary. If you handed him enough money, he'd run the whole hotel singing "The Streak" stark naked. So then I'm supposed to believe that this guy is actually interested to me?"

By this time, Jeremy wasn't even trying to hold in his laughter. He was clutching the walls for support and gasping for breath as his body convulsed in his silent laughter. Sarah would have found this funny if she hadn't been so angry.

"I refuse to play along with this when I know that he's just laying it on for the money." She said.

"Then don't. Look, I know how you feel and it was never my intentions to make you feel like you couldn't get a date for yourself. I simply wanted you to have someone your own age here so that you weren't bored while Jeremy and I worked. If you don't want him as a boy toy—"she ignored the glares from Sarah, "—then tell him that. Take him as a friend, or at the very least, and tour guide."

Sarah huffed and tried to think of another good argument, but she found none. "I wish you would have told me first." She mumbled, defeated.

Linda sighed and hugged her. "I'd wanted it to be a surprise. I thought you'd have been excited. You've got to admit that he's very cute."

"That's an understatement," Sarah reluctantly admitted.

Linda grinned at her triumphantly, "Well, then, there you go. I got him just for you, so do whatever you please with him—just nothing too extreme, mind you. I'm still your mother, you know."

Sarah blushed a deep scarlet at her mother's implication.

"And…" started Jeremy, who had long since sobered, "That's where I draw the line on this conversation. Perhaps Sarah would like a tour of the suite, since she's supposed to live here for the next two weeks.

The suite was absolutely gorgeous and was the biggest Sarah had ever seen. It was a two-bedroom penthouse on the top floor of the hotel. The suite definitely had an elegant yet homey feel to it, and Sarah bet everything she had that nothing in it was cheap. The walls were a cream color with dark gold crown molding, and in the living room the furniture was a mixture of Victorian and Modern era furniture, with puffy white sitting chairs (which Sarah judged to be rather comfy reading spots) and glass tables with lamps to match the walls. There was a full kitchen opposite the living room, but the trio only gave it a cursory glance, as none of them planned on spending any time in it. They skipped Jeremy and Linda's room, which Sarah respected, and then they came to the room that was to be hers.

Sarah was in love. She thought it as soon as she stepped through the threshold. The room was large, larger than the whole of her living room and dining room put together and, unlike the rest of the suite, had a totally Roman theme. The walls were deep red with bright gold borders. A large, old-fashioned cloth tapestry spanned the whole of one wall, depicting life-size Roman Gods and Goddesses together as if it were a family portrait, everyone from Jupiter to Diana to Neptune, standing or lounging gaily surrounded by a spectacular feast. On the wall opposite it was a large place that looked to be a bed, although it looked more like a couch than a bed.

And then there was the balcony. Sarah actually gave a shriek of delight as she ran across the room and out the glass double doors. Her mother was right; the view was _gorgeous_! She stared, absolutely enraptured, out onto the bright blue ocean with thick white clouds floating peacefully in the warm, almost tropical air. She moaned softly when a breeze caressed her face, bringing the calming smell of the sea with it. It was so peaceful, she could have stayed out there forever and just forget about the world around her. She lifted her face to the heavens and raised her arms like a bird, ready to fly away.

A small chuckle brought her out of her thoughts. She turned and saw Jeremy and Linda holding each other and watching her, smiles on their faces. She smiled right back, and ran back inside to hug them both, "Thank you both so much for inviting me." She said earnestly.

"Oh, baby, I couldn't get married without you here with me." Linda said.

"We're glad to have you, Sarah." Jeremy added, "You're always welcome with us."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she smiled up at him. She loved her mother and Jeremy. He was a father to her, not just a boyfriend or a fiancé of her mother that tolerated her. She could sense that he truly cared for her, and it made her swell with respect and affection for him, as well.

Jeremy pulled out of the hug, "Well, I'm sorry to say this after you've just arrived, but your mother and I must get back to the movie today. Celluloid waits for no man—or woman—I'm afraid."

Sarah laughed. "Can I come?" she asked.

"My dear girl, that's the idea!" Jeremy exclaimed. "You didn't think we were going to drag you halfway around the world just to make you sit in the hotel all week, did you?"

Linda let go of her, "We're going to give you the royal treatment, Sarah. You're going to be pampered like a princess the whole time! Imagine it: shopping sprees, professional hair and makeup artists, photo shoots—_and_, I've even talked the director into giving you a cameo in the movie. With lines. Imagine it, your first part in a major movie!"

Sarah's green eyes shown like jewels and her heart swelled so that she thought it might burst. She was going to be in a movie—with her mother! She hardly contained her excitement as she bounced up and down like a child at Christmas, squealing happily. Her mother just laughed at her and put a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"Settle down, Sarah. Get dressed in your best clothes and get ready for the best day of your life!"

And so, dressed in an acid washed denim skirt over tight black leggings and Reeboks with a black and neon pink checkered tank, Sarah was quite literally bouncing at the door, waiting impatiently for her mother and Jeremy to finish getting ready. However, a knock at the door proved to bring her back down out of her mood. She opened it, her face bright and smiling, but when she saw who it was, she immediately scowled.

Paolo. He stood there in the hallway, posing almost haughtily in faded jeans, a T shirt, and a leather jacket which Sarah reluctantly admitted made him look positively roguish.

"What do you want?" she asked, barely managing keep her voice calm. Paolo, however, didn't falter. He flashed Sarah a smile that she supposed meant to be charming.

"I am here be your escort on this lovely day, _mia bella_." He said, walking up so close to her that she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. He went to grab her hand—probably to kiss it—but Sarah never gave him the chance. She jumped backwards and held her hand behind her protectively.

"Listen here, you arrogant jerk" she winced at the insult she hadn't meant to give "I know very well that this is all an act because my mom's paying you, so quit with the flirting. I'm not stupid, and I'm insulted that you think I would overlook it simply because you look like a Roman god…" _Oh, someone make me shut up_ she thought to herself. She hadn't meant to say that, either. She could feel the heat crawling up her neck and prayed that he couldn't see it.

Paolo was taken by surprise. He watched her, tensed, and just as Sarah began to wish the ground would swallow her up, he smiled almost shyly. He ran his hand through his hair, "I guess I laid it on too thick, didn't I? Signor Porcellini's probably not gonna be too happy with me. He told me to flirt with you as much as I could so I could get a lot of money from your mother."

"I'd figured that out down in the lobby; I wasn't happy about it at all." She said. She was starting to see what Jeremy didn't like about Mr. Porcellini. What a low, greedy man!

He looked at her thoughtfully. "You're a strange girl." He said, then hastily added under Sarah's raised eyebrows, "I mean, most of these rich girls like it when attractive men flirt with them, even if they figure out that it's just for the money."

Sarah wasn't sure whether to feel complimented or insulted by being called 'strange'. "I'm not like other girls." She said decisively.

He chuckled, "I can see that."

It was at this point that Jeremy and Linda decided to make their grand entrance. "Ah, Paolo, I'm so glad Mr. Porcellini let you off work. I didn't want Sarah to be lonely while Jeremy and I had to work. Her shoot isn't for another couple of days so she'd just be hanging around bored."

"It's my pleasure, _signora_." he gave a slight, gentlemanly bow, glancing at Sarah. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

"Alright, pleasantries are finished, yes? Carl called me and said that if we weren't down on that set by 3 o'clock, we could kiss our jobs good bye." Jeremy said, glancing at his watch pointedly. Both Sarah and Linda giggled. There was no way that that they ever could fire two such popular actors, and certainly not so far into the movie. Jeremy was just being dramatic, as usual. Nevertheless, everyone filed out of the hotel room. Paolo grasped Sarah's arm as she walked out the door.

"So, are we friends?" he asked.

She shrugged, "Sure, as long as you don't try anything funny." She grinned teasingly.

He smiled back, "Deal." With that, Sarah and Paolo walked out the door, closing it behind them.

---

After the day was out, and Linda and Jeremy were done shooting, Linda announced that she wanted to take Sarah sightseeing around the shopping district of Venice. While there were a many shops, Sarah was surprised and delighted to see that there were just as many, if not more outdoor vendors out on the cobblestone streets, their exotic crafts and wares giving her excited thrills up and down her spine. She, her mother, Jeremy, and Paolo spent the whole evening browsing through everything from jewelry to clothing and even to animals!

As she and her mother stuck their head into another tent to explore the mountains of silk Indonesian dresses, Sarah saw Jeremy and Paolo over at a fruit stand on the other side of the road. Jeremy was holding something and talking to an old vendor whose face was hidden by a dirty grey cloak. The vendor gave her an unexpected shiver of unease. Odd, she thought, what could Jeremy possibly buy from a fruit cart? And with such a shady vendor?

Linda brought her attention back to a pink dress that she was holding up against her, asking her what she thought of it. As Sarah agreed to Linda's choice and laughed over her reaction to the price, she couldn't help bought be aware of Jeremy as he gave the merchant his money and wrapped his purchase in a brown paper bag. She sighed, slightly annoyed with herself. What business was it of hers what Jeremy bought? It was just a fruit cart, anyway. Probably something for Linda; a pomegranate, maybe. Linda loved those. And so, as she followed her mother as she stomped out of the tent and listened to her rant about "Unreasonable, stubborn hawker", Sarah put the thought out of her mind. She was oblivious to the hard and covetous stares made at her from the cloaked merchant, who suddenly disappeared in a puff of smoke along with his cart, completely unnoticed by the other shoppers.


	4. Wedding Dreams and Disasters

Hello again. Here's chapter 3 for you! Hope you like it! Please review: most you being authors yourself, you must know how encouraging it is to get some feedback!

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Labyrinth *sigh*. They belong to Jim Henson--rest his soul--and company and Tristar Pictures.

Chapter 3

The next two weeks had been the best of Sarah's life. She did indeed get the 'princess' treatment, and she felt more spoiled than she thought she'd ever deserved. While her parents worked, Sarah toured the city with a credit card with no limit and an assurance from her mother that she needn't worry about budget. Jeremy and Linda called in favors left and right, getting Sarah into the most exclusive and expensive modeling shows, plays, clubs, and stores. Her mother even hired a professional fashion and makeup artist, an Italian woman named Clarice, to help Sarah as she was courted by every 5-star fashion store in Venice.

Paolo was there, too, for which she was grateful. He had proved to be an invaluable friend during the last few days, showing her every part of Venice—even the parts that no one dared tour. At day's end, when Sarah's feet ached and her parents had yet to come back home from their day's work, she and Paolo would talk for hours about any and every subject. She learned that he was only 19 and he had had to move out of his mother's house on the account of his mother had no room in the house to accommodate him and his 7 other underage siblings. When she'd asked him about doing acting or modeling (for she couldn't imagine an agency that wouldn't have happily take him) he told her he had no interest in modeling and that the whole industry was degrading to those who weren't considered 'model' material. Such a mature answer had surprised her, given the fact that he hadn't hesitated to try to use his physical wiles against her. But he'd just gave another of his signature, adorably shy smiles and said that he was willing to do anything to support his family.

And now today was the wedding, and Sarah sat on the couch in a dull-blue satin dress with her hair curled elegantly and makeup professionally done courtesy of Clarice, who Sarah had just learned was to be her mom's assistant for the wedding. Her mother was in the bathroom with several of her friends and bridesmaids, having a meltdown of some sort over the dress. Sarah sighed, exasperated. Ever since her mother woke her up this morning, it had been one crisis after another. The face mask she wore to sleep had given her a rash; the caterers couldn't find the ballroom for the reception; one of the bridesmaids got drunk last night and was too hung-over to make it to the wedding…after the first three problems, Sarah stopped paying attention. She just let Linda to her own devices, while she relaxed on the couch in a drowsy stupor, having been woken much earlier than planned because of the face crisis—which, thankfully, was resolved quickly, as the rash cleared up after a hot shower.

As she lay there, her eyes got heavy and the world started to blur. A song played in her mind, a tune she'd never heard before, and she started humming it. It felt familiar, yet Sarah didn't remember ever hearing it in her whole life. The melody was comforting and made her feel warm, like a thick blanket was wrapped around her. Or a pair of arms. Suddenly, she saw an image of a person, a man with wild blonde hair and mismatched eyes, clothed in midnight blue and silver. He had his arms around her and swayed with her on the dance floor to the very song she hummed. Her eyes lit up as she recognized him and he smiled his sexy, mischievous smile that created a curious ache below her belly. He leaned in towards her, cradling her neck and back. She closed her eyes blissfully. He was going to kiss her, she thought with relief. _Yes…_

But his mouth never touched hers. She opened her eyes, and Jareth's face was mere inches away from her. He was still smiling, but Sarah found that she didn't like this one. It was dangerous, almost crazy, and his white teeth now looked pointed and demonic. His grip on her neck tightened painfully.

"Soon, Sarah, you are going to be mine, and I'm going to make you pay for what you've done to me…" and then his lips came crashing down on hers, his teeth grinding against her soft lips, and his grip on her neck tightening to the point where she could barely breath—

"That's a pretty song you're singing, Sarah."

Sarah jumped off of the couch, her eyes wide and her chest heaving. She stared around the room, fists raised, ready to fend off the unseen threat. Her sudden movement started the bridesmaid, who stumbled backwards.

"Whoa, Sarah, steady there, girl! What's wrong?" asked the bridesmaid. Sarah focused on her. It was Matilde, an older-aged Italian actress dressed in the same gown as Sarah. Her dark eyes watched Sarah with concern.

Sarah dropped back down onto the couch with a sigh of relief. She forced a smile to Matilde, "I'm fine. I was just dozing and had a…a bad dream."

Matilde whistled, "Must have been some dream, huh, for you to go jumping like that?"

_Yea_ Sarah thought, _some dream_. She sat there, her heart growing heavy. It wasn't just a dream, it was an omen—of what, she wasn't sure, but she knew something was going to happen, and soon. Apprehension smothered her, constricting her lungs, making it harder for her to breathe. She instantly remembered when she'd first been invited to Venice, staring at the letter. She'd felt it, then. Why did she forget? _How _could she forget? She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

"Sarah, are you alright?" Matilde asked. "Do you need me to go your ma?"

Sarah shook her head again. "No," she said, "Just some water, please." The last thing she wanted was to worry her mom on her wedding day when she was already having so many problems.

Matilde watched her warily, "Alright, love, but you just sit there and get some rest. We all need to be in our best condition for your momma." With that, she set off for the kitchen. Sarah stared after her. Rest? After what she just saw? Impossible. She was far too shaken for that. Matilde gave Sarah her glass of water, and she swallowed it all in one gulp.

"Sarah? Where are you? I can't find my earrings! They were your grandma's, and without them, I can't finish the Bridal Mantra. Oh, this isn't working! Maybe Jeremy and I weren't meant to married!" She heard her mother sob from the Master Bathroom. Sarah shook her head in distaste, momentarily forgetting her dream. Her mother could be such a drama queen—perhaps that's where she got it from.

Matilde watched her expression and laughed, "Good luck trying to get in there, love. I'll be very surprised if you can get yourself in that bathroom with all those women in there."

Casting the woman a weary glance, Sarah got up and went to help her mother and her never-ending catastrophes.

---

The wedding was, overall, an interesting affair. Linda's personal problems were but a mere glimpse of what was to come. Almost nothing seemed to go right up until Linda and Jeremy were exchanging vows. Anything and everything that could go wrong in a wedding did. Several of the guests couldn't find the church; Jeremy had slept in and delayed the wedding 30 minutes, half the wedding band had lost their instruments, and the ceremony kept getting interrupted by people shrieking that they'd been pelted with stones, although none had been found. Linda had nearly dissolved into tears and her vows were given croakily.

Something felt off to Sarah as the ceremony had ended and people gathered outside and the wedding crew posed for their professional pictures in front of the alter. There was no way that _everything_ could have gone wrong, all by itself. Something, or some_one,_ was deliberately sabotaging the wedding. Even as she knew that the thought was ridiculous, she couldn't shake it. The feeling intensified as she stood there with her mother, posing for their picture together, when the photographer's pants belt suddenly loosened, causing his pants to fall to the floor. Startled and embarrassed, the photographer went to grab his fallen pants, but in his haste the camera flung out of his hand and crashed onto the stone floor of the church, smashing it beyond repair. And, to add to the frustration and disbelief, the backup camera that the photographer had stashed had a corroded disk that had nearly ruined the camera. Needless to say, that was the end of the pictures and about the end of Linda's sanity. Tears streamed down her face as Sarah tried to comfort her, and beyond the commotion, she could have sworn she heard small voices cackling from the shadows of her vision.

When they'd reached the ballroom, everyone was at their wits end and praying the reception went better than the ceremony. As Sarah got out of the limousine with her mother, Jeremy, and the other bridesmaids, she was happy and relieved to see Paolo, looking debonair in his neatly pressed tuxedo.

"Courtesy of Jeremy." He said, adjusting the neck of his suit uncomfortably as he led through the grand entrance of the ballroom. Sarah noticed the stares of all the women on Paolo, and felt a womanly satisfaction that he was _her _date, even though her feelings toward him were completely platonic.

As they entered the room, Sarah gasped in awe. While her mother had told her that they were going to have the reception at an Opera House, she had yet to see it before now, and the sight took her breath away. They stood before a wide Grand Staircase covered in red and gold carpeting which led them into the spacious ballroom. The vaulted ceiling arched high above them, and was held up by creamy columns that encircled the dance floor. A Gorgeously painted sky mural dotted with cherubs and other sky-borne creatures decorated the ceiling and down the walls, creating the illusion that the ceiling had been forgotten and left to reveal a perpetual morning sky.

"Are you coming, Sarah?" A voice startled Sarah out of her reverie. Paolo had already begun his decent down the massive staircase and had turned back to her with his hand out expectantly, amusement in his eyes.

She blushed, not realizing that she'd actually stopped to stare. She quickly placed her hand in his and let him lead her down onto the dance floor, where he immediately swept her up in his arms and started dancing with her. Sarah felt so relaxed in his arms that she leaned her head on his shoulder and let him lead her. The music was slow and traditional, played by a live orchestra instead of a stereo, although Sarah noted that there were speakers set up all around the room, and expected a more modernized party very soon. It seemed to her that all of Venice was there to celebrate the newly weds, as well as many major celebrities that had not been at the wedding. Some chatted idly and sipped their champagne, while others joined Sarah and Paolo in dancing peacefully to the music.

She felt Paolo's arms move up her back and his face brush her hair. The act didn't feel unpleasant, but all the same, Sarah tensed. What was he doing? She pulled her head back and stared at him, and he gave her a tender look, smiled and twirled her around.

The beat of the music suddenly quickened into a livelier beat, almost like a salsa, and Paolo danced to it, leading Sarah into a wild tango. He twirled her and spun her and dipped her all around the dance floor, and Sarah could only follow his lead breathlessly, bewildered by the sudden change in motion. The other dancers cleared the dance floor and everyone watched the passionate dance in awe. Sarah quickly loosened up and matched him step for step, relishing the adrenaline rush it gave her and the pleasant surprise that she could actually dance, which she'd never done before. As the song progressed, Paolo started making the moves decidedly more complex, performing stunts with her that she'd only ever seen from professional dancers on television. And all of it was done with very little effort on her part. He flipped her across his back, pulled her, sliding, through his legs, and tossed her in the air as if she were nothing more than a feather. She twirled in the air and landed in his arms. He dipped her low as the song ended, her long hair skimming the floor. They both panted heavily as everyone applauded enthusiastically.

"I didn't know you could dance," Sarah said between breaths. _And so well,_ she thought. _He made me do all those tricks as if I were a professional. Is that even possible?_

"My mother put me through ballroom dancing for over 6 years before my father lost his job." Paolo said as he pulled her up. Sarah gripped him as a head rush hit her. Linda and Jeremy walked up to her, Linda grinning widely as she embraced Sarah.

"Oh, Sarah, that was wonderful! It was so exhilarating watching you two move together. You guys were so perfect for each other and the chemistry was so intense. It was like you two knew what each other was going do before they did it. How long have you two been practicing?"

Sarah held up her hands in denial, "We never practiced this before. Paolo just started pulling me along with the music; it was all him. Hell, I've never tangoed before—if that even what it was."

Paolo just ran his hand through his hair bashfully, "I asked the band to play that song before the wedding. I deliberately chose moves that wouldn't require Sarah to do anything more than just follow along."

Linda's eyes glistened, "Well, whatever. It was beautiful. That was the best present I could've ever gotten from you. You just made this day a whole lot better."

Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah saw Jeremy, and to her surprise, his face showed ill-disguised anger. She looked at him questioningly. Immediately, upon catching her eye, his expression changed from anger to confusion. He whispered something in her mother's ear and, giving Sarah another baffled glance, strode off.

Her mother watched him walk away blissfully before returning to them. Her expression was enraptured, "Oh, he's such a gentleman. He's going to get us drinks. I'm so happy I married him, despite all that's happened today."

Sarah smiled, happy for her mother. She had long since lost any lingering resentment that her parents had separated, and she honestly thought that Jeremy was better suited for her than her father was. She was so glad that, even after the mess the wedding had been, her mother was still able to enjoy her special day.

The next few hours passed in a blur. Sarah let the newlyweds have their time together and spent the majority of the reception with Paolo, talking with him and dancing with him to the DJ and speakers, which played bands like Metallica and Lynard Skynard and artists like Madonna and David Bowie (who was a particular favorite of Jeremy's); the dances, however, were extremely tame compared to the frenzied tango of before. When they had the dinner, they gathered in an elegant banquet hall where she sat between Linda (as her maid of honor) and Paolo. After the toasts were made and the dinner complete, everyone gathered around the dance floor for the throwing of the bouquet.

Sarah stood reluctantly in the center of the group of anxious unmarried women, her arms crossed and feeling rather uncomfortable. Her mother turned and threw the bouquet of white lilies and purple orchids over her shoulders, flying straight towards the upraised arms. Sarah relaxed as she watched it fly towards a woman several feet to her left, and turned to leave. She let out a sharp yelp when she felt something hit her, _hard_, on her head. Whatever it was dropped into her raised arms, and Sarah blinked. It was the bouquet. She stared at it blankly even as cheers erupted around her and hands patted her on her head and shoulders.

Linda pulled her into a hug as she got out of the group, "Congratulations, baby, you got the bouquet. That was funny, I could have sworn Susan was going to get it, but for some reason it just _shifted_ into the opposite direction. Oh, well. That means you're going to get married next!"

Sarah shivered as she envisioned herself in a puffy white wedding dress. Somehow the thought did not bring happy feelings of joy in her. Luckily, Linda and Jeremy decided to forego the slinging of the garter, for Sarah did not especially wish some strange man going up her dress to place a garter on her leg.

"Ladies and gentleman," called the DJ from his stand, "I want to announce that it is time for the official 'Father-daughter' dance. Would the bride and her father come to the floor, please?"

Sarah tensed. Her grandfather, Linda's father, had died several years previous to Sarah's birth. How dare they announce something like that without asking her if it was possible first! What did they expect her to do, stand out there all alone and sway to the music? Then a rugged man well into his 40's ambled out of the crowd. He was a wild looking man, even clean-shaven in a nice suit. Sarah gasped. It was Uncle Travis! What was he doing here? Uncle Travis hadn't been there for either the ceremony or the better part of the reception. In fact, until just now, he and Linda hadn't seen each other since Sarah was little. He walked up to Linda, who was just as surprised at his arrival as Sarah was, and extended his hand towards her.

"My dearest little Lindy, I know I haven't been around for you all that much these last couple of years, but will you join me in a much needed 'brother-sister' dance?"

Her mom's eyes glistened with tears and the audience _aww_-ed as she took his hand and he led her out to the dance floor. A slow, gentle song filled the room, the voice deep and soothing, crooning about the bond between a father and daughter. Although, Sarah doubted that Linda was even paying attention to the lyrics; her eyes were glassy and transfixed on her estranged brother. Soon, others were joining them, locking arms and swaying simultaneously in a slow, leisurely pace. Sarah felt arms wrap around her and turned to find Paolo, smiling down at her, again with the tender gaze. She felt her stomach curl as he pulled out onto the dance floor, and it didn't settle even as the song progressed and slid into another, unnoticed by the other dancers.

She knew what he was doing; she's gotten attention from too many teenage boys _not_ to know. Every gesture he made, every look he gave her, every time he touched her, everything he's done tonight sent a clear message. He was flirting, albeit subtly. And she had no idea what to do about it. The weeks she spent with him had been amazing. She could relate to him on a level that she'd never touch with another person, and she knew that if there was one person in this world that could ever be a match for her, it was him. He was perfect; he was gorgeous, sensitive, was incredibly loyal to his family, hard-working, and _so _intelligent. And he was so mellow. He never even got angry or jealous. There was hardly a fault to him, but maybe that was the problem: he was _too_ perfect. Perhaps it was the flawed personality that she wanted, with traits like arrogance and selfishness to balance it out. Isn't that what drew her to Jareth?

She shook her head vigorously. She absolutely _refused_ to compare him to Jareth. Heis_ made_-_up_, she chastised herself. You've already ruined too many relationships because you compare them to him.

_ Like you're about to ruin yet another one?_

The thought tore at her heart, and she tried to force herself into feeling some sort of romantic emotion, but as hard as she tried, the only form of affection she could feel for him was completely friendly_. _But how was she going to tell him that?

Preoccupied with her musings, Sarah didn't realize that Paolo was slowly leading them towards the farthest corner of the ballroom until her vision was engulfed in shadows. She looked around the crevice warily; two marble columns and the curved walls of the grand staircase made sure it was small and enclosed and definitely hard to be spied on. Overall, it was a fine place for lovers to stow away unseen.

For a moment, Paolo simply held her and Sarah tensed, confused as to what she was supposed to do. She knew that she had to tell him quickly that she was not interested so that he didn't get the wrong idea, but she didn't know to do go about it. She didn't want to hurt his feelings and lose him as a friend, but she didn't want to go any farther than friendship, either. She wasn't naïve enough that she could just tell him 'no' and that would be the end of it. She had a feeling that, however gently she rejected him, he was going to fight.

He pulled away from her, "Sarah…" he sighed, his caressing feather-light over her cheek as he stared into her eyes.

She had to stop him, "Paolo, wait." She grasped his hand, "I can't do this."

He looked confused, "What?"

"I can't do _this_." She repeated, "I can't…" She didn't even know how to phrase it.

"Why not?" he said "Is there someone else? Do you have a boyfriend back home?"

She shook her head, "No, that's not it…"

"Then why not?" he demanded.

"Because…because I don't want to jeopardize our friendship," she threw out, flustered.

"Don't give me that, Sarah. Please." He grabbed her hands in his. "I love you, Sarah. I know it's too early, and I don't expect you to feel the same, but I love you all the same. I love everything about you. I love your defiance, your ability to look beyond the surface. You pushed me away even though you thought I was good-looking—and yes you do, you admitted it yourself—because you didn't like the fact that I was bought. You're deep, Sarah, deeper than any other girl I've ever met. Please don't be scared or push me away."

Sarah's heart ached and she felt tears fill her eyes, "Oh, Paolo, don't do this. I can't take it. What would you do when I had to leave? I have a life in America. I can't live here forever, Paolo, and you can't leave your family without support."

He remained silent and Sarah felt horrible for the low blow. He was torn between his 'love' for her and his loyalty his family. He would never leave them without them having a secure financial support.

"Paolo, I know you may think you love me, but—" Sarah never got to finish her sentence. Paolo's lips crashed against hers, slamming them both into the hard wall. His mouth moved on hers harshly, trying to force her participation. Sarah gripped his hair, trying frantically to pull him away, but he just held her tighter, mistaking her struggle for desire.

"Paolo…"she managed to say through his heated kisses, "Please—stop!"

"Sarah?" Came a voice. Jeremy. Immediately, Paolo jumped away from her, his face flushed and his eyes a mixture of excitement and embarrassment. Sarah realized that tears were rolling down her eyes, and she hastily wiped them away, unconsciously grateful for waterproof makeup, before turning to Jeremy, who peered at her with a mixture of worry and suspicion. Her stomach did a funny flip when she realized that he'd probably heard her cries. "Sarah, I was wondering if you'd like dance with me. We haven't all night and I'm beginning to feel a tad neglected." Even with the worry, he still managed a gentle teasing tone. Sarah nodded, grateful. Paolo grasped her hand as she left, and she looked at him with watery eyes that froze his energized features before pulling away. She felt terrible as she walked out to the dance floor with Jeremy. That went so much worse than she'd expected. She hadn't gotten anything resolved with him and, in the end, just stirred up more drama that she'd have to deal with after the wedding reception was over.

_What a fine day this turned out to be_ Sarah thought sourly as Jeremy wrapped his arms around her waist and moved with her to yet another corny ballad that made her mood even poorer. Nothing had gone according to plan and the amount of drama caused in just one day was ridiculous. _They should put a ban on having so much drama in one person's life_, she thought resolutely.

"Is there something going on between you and Paolo that I should know about?" Jeremy said, bringing her out of her thoughts. His mismatched eyes stared at her meaningfully, urging her to talk.

"There's nothing going on." She mumbled, looking away. She felt intimidated under his gaze.

"Sarah." He said, his fingers curling under her chin and lifting back towards his face, "If that boy does anything to you that you don't want, don't hesitate to tell me—any boy, for that matter. I'll always be there for you."

He knew, she thought. He knew that I didn't want that kiss, but he's trying make me tell him before he does anything.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice far more confident than she felt.

He smiled a gentle, knowing smile that was most unusual for the usually boisterous, somewhat ornery Jeremy, "Alright, if you say so—oh, Sarah, I almost forgot. I brought you a gift."

From beneath his tuxedo jacket, he brought out what Sarah thought to be a large, perfectly round orange-and-burgundy ball.

"What is it?" she asked.

Jeremy grinned, twirling it in one hand expertly while still holding her waist with the other, "It is a peach, nothing more, but the vendor told me that when bitten, you can taste the success of fulfilling your dreams."

Sarah was struck with a sudden sense of _déjà vu_. She stared warily at the peach, then at Jeremy, then back to the peach. It was the most perfect peach she'd ever seen. It was perfectly large and round and succulent, despite being smashed between Jeremy's jacket, and the most perfect shade of orange she'd ever seen. It was starting to make her mouth water. Jeremy grinned at her expression and held it to her lips invitingly. She clasped it with both hands and took large bite. Instantly, all Sarah's felt her heart flutter as if all her troubles had been lifted. It was so delicious! She felt the cool juices roll down the sides of her mouth and moaned softly as she closed her eyes in pure ecstasy. Jeremy laughed at her reaction.

"That good, eh?" he asked.

Sarah only nodded. Good didn't even _begin_ to cover it. She took another bite and savored the sweet taste on her tongue. It was like nothing she had ever tasted before and made her feel as if she were somebody important, somebody adored by millions of people, and yet at the same time, loved intimately and unconditionally by one person, the soul mate she was to spend the rest of eternity with. Jeremy had to hold her steady as she flew through clouds of bliss.

Jeremy was right! She felt the success of her dreams. The dreams of becoming a famous actress and finding a man that was to be complete the circle to her jagged half. In her rapture, it took her a moment to realize that Jeremy was calling her.

"Sarah? _Sarah? _Gatsby, Sarah, you look as if you'd just ingested opium. Does it really work?"

Sarah nodded, breathless as her senses came back to her all at once, hitting her with all the force of a freight train. Her stomach twisted and her head started to pound, making her nauseous. She leaned against Jeremy for support.

"I don't feel so—" she stopped as a convulsion racked her stomach painfully and she gagged. The peach dropped to the floor and rolled away.

"Sarah, are you alright?" Jeremy asked. The question was completely rhetorical, but Sarah shook her head anyway. Her hand clutched her stomach as another convulsion hit.

"Air…" she rasped.

Jeremy understood immediately. "Come on, we'll go outside."

With Jeremy supporting her, Sarah stumbled her way towards the stair case, desperately fighting off bile that was trying to remove the offending substance from her belly. Paolo met them at the stairs,

"What's wrong with her? What did you do?" he demanded.

Jeremy shot him a dark look over Sarah's head, "The peach I gave her had pesticide residue on it."

Paolo was immediately at her side. "I'll take her outside." He said, reaching for her.

Jeremy was hesitant, but Paolo said, "You're the groom, Jeremy. You need to be in here with your guests and tell Sarah's mom what happened. If she gets too bad, I'll take her home. I promise."

Jeremy cursed under his breath. The boy was right, of course. He couldn't just disappear from the reception, not without explaining things. Plus, Linda would be worried if she couldn't find either him or Sarah. For all that he loved that woman, she was a drama queen—his perfect match, he thought dryly.

He handed her over to the boy carefully, as if she were some precious fragile porcelain doll. Sarah was concentrating on herself too much to notice who held her now. The pain was steadily getting worse and sweat beaded her forehead as she tried to fight it. She felt herself being half-dragged up the stairs and out the large oak double doors.

The night air hit her with a blast of cold, but it did little to quell the pain. Her knees buckled and she grasped at whoever held her as she fell to the floor. She managed to drag herself to the side of the stairwell before retching into the shrubbery. It didn't make her feel any better. She felt a hand on her back pat her soothingly.

"Sarah, you okay?"

She tensed slightly at the Paolo's voice, but shook her head. "I need to get back to the hotel." There was no way this was just going to go away and in the next few minutes; if she was going to be miserable, she was going to be miserable by herself and not ruin what's left of her mother's wedding day.

Paolo nodded solemnly and waved down a cab. He'd made a terrible mistake: he thought that she'd cared for him like he did her and he was paying the price. Now, it was uncomfortable to be near her, yet it was unbearable to be away from her. He knew very well that it was ridiculous that he should feel so intensely about her, but what could he do? He was quite serious when he told her she was unlike any girl he had met. She took him beyond his appearance and that had touched him in a way he'd never felt before. However, with the way he'd handled things, he doubted she would ever return the favor. He hadn't meant to jump the gun like that, but when he realized that she'd have to leave for America in only a few days, he had panicked.

_ I guess fool's rush in_ he thought grimly as a cab finally answered his calls. He hauled Sarah in the car and told the taxi driver the directions of the Palazzo reale di Celestiale Sogni Hotel. Sarah leaned against him and gripped his shirt, her breathing rough and shallow

"Sarah." He started as the cab took off. It may not be the right time, but he honestly didn't know when he'd have the time to make amends. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to push you. I should have just left it alone when you said 'no', but I guess I just got scared. I don't want to lose your friendship. _Please_."

Sarah shook her head, trying to shake the nausea away long enough to listen to what he was saying. He sounded so lost, like a little boy who thought he'd disappointed his mother. "Don't…" she croaked. Good grief, her voice sounded horrible, "Don't worry, Paolo…I—its okay…" she cried out, her stomach seizing up. Her grip on his shirt tightened as she fought to not vomit again.

The driver up front started asking Paolo something in Italian, something that Sarah couldn't understand, to which Paolo replied a resounding, 'no' and a mention of the _Palazzo reale di Celestiale Sogni _ in a much firmer voice_._

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Sh. It's nothing" Paolo wrapped his arm around her protectively. "We're almost there."

* * *

Hoped you like it. See you next time! Oh, and cookies for those who caught the little David Bowie joke!


	5. Conspiracies Come to Light

Author's Corner: I am SO sorry it took me so long to update! I got a new game for Valentine's Day and since, my free time has been filled with playing on it. I finally got on myself last night around midnight while I was babysittng my sister and nearly died trying to complete the chapter. I finally finished it and now I can give you lovely folks the next chapter.

Reviews are appreciated!

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Labyrinth concept or characters. It belongs to Jim Henson--rest his soul--and Tristar Pictures. IF I did own it, you bet your butt there'd be a sequel!!!! However what I do own are the original characters and the original plot.

Chapter 4

Paolo set Sarah down onto her bed in the _Palazzo reale di Celestiale Sogni_ and laid a glass of water and a trashcan next to it. He made to pull her covers over her, but she just pushed his hands away. She could feel it; she was getting ready to be sick.

"Go…please. I don't want you to see—to see me sick." She said urgently.

He watched her, torn between wanting to comfort her and wanting to give her privacy, before turning to leave. "Call me if you need anything." He said solemnly.

No sooner did the door close did Sarah lurch head first into the trashcan. When she was done, she collapsed into the pillows, exhausted. _I've never had food poisoning before, and I don't think I ever want it again_. She thought. She gave a deep sigh and look about her room, treasuring the few precious moments that her stomach gave her peace. In the past few weeks, she came to call this room her sanctuary, the one place where she could unwind and find peace and solitude from the busy day. She had fallen in love with it the first day she arrived here, and with each passing day, the feeling had intensified to the point where she almost couldn't bear leaving it when the time came. She especially came to love the cloth mural that depicted all the Roman Gods in a celebratory feast. Every time she looked at them, they would smile warmly and their eyes would watch her invitingly, as if trying to persuade her to join them in their celebration. It made her feel like she was included in something important, something no other mortal was allowed to see.

However, upon looking at the drapery this night, Sarah noticed something odd about it. Something that made her think the pesticides weren't quite gone.

The pictures were moving.

Her eyes widened as she sat up ramrod straight, forgetting entirely that she was supposed to be ill. She watched as the figures in the painting moved languidly, chatting and eating and drinking, completely unaware of her stares. She blinked and rubbed her eyes in disbelief and look at it again. They were still moving. _What the hell?_

_ I've got to be hallucinating_, she decided. _The pesticides on that peach are causing me to see things_. But all the same, she got up from her bed and padded her way slowly towards the picture. As she moved closer, the gods and goddesses in the painting started to notice her. They all watched her with fixed, predatory eyes that gave her the impression of a pride of hungry lions ready to devour her.

"Why, my dear, what are you doing out there?" asked the woman who stood next to Jupiter, a woman so…Junoesque that Sarah could only identify her to be, in fact, Juno. There really was no other way to describe her. She was both beautiful and intimidating that Sarah could think of no other goddess she could be.

"Uh, I don't know…" Sarah said.

"You don't? Then why be out there? You should be here with us." She said, smiling as she gestured around the rest of the painting.

"I don't know how to get in there." Sarah said, feeling embarrassed, as if the knowledge were supposed to be obvious.

"Oh, come now, love, its simple!" came the booming voice of a two-faced man from behind a mountain of fruit, "You just have to open the door!"

If Sarah's memory was correct, this was Janus, who was ironically the God of Doors. "But I don't know where it is." She said.

"It's right in front of you, you silly girl!" called Mercury, who was hovering lazily above the rest of the other Gods with his winged sandals. She felt herself blushing as she noticed that they were all he was wearing. He caught her stare and winked and thrust his hips toward her suggestively, causing her to look away, embarrassed again. What an interesting hallucination this is, she thought.

"Well, aren't you coming?" he asked as they all watched her intently, giving her the feeling that she really didn't have much choice.

She walked toward the painting hesitantly, and she noticed all their expressions turned triumphant. She didn't understand why, so she just shrugged, reaching her hand out to feel for the door. There was no door, just as she had expected, yet a still stranger phenomenon occurred. Upon touching the cloth with her fingers, it rippled like water and gave way, making her fingers become a part of the canvas. Startled, Sarah pulled her fingers back and inspected them for damage. There was none.

"Impossible…" she said.

"There you go again; you're taking everything for granted." Minerva said, crossing her arms and watching her with amusement. Sarah glanced at her. That sounded so familiar, like something she'd heard years ago. _Things are not always what they seem…you can't take anything for granted._ Sarah squared her shoulders, feeling more confident. She wasn't about to take nearly as long learning that lesson this time around. Without thinking twice, she walked headfirst into the canvas, her face and body melting into the canvas, leaving her world behind her.

Outside in the living room, Paolo blinked and stared around the room, confused. What was he still doing here? Hadn't Sarah already left for America? He felt his eyes ache as tears threaten to spill, and hastily wiped them away. He'll certainly miss her, and he doubted that he'll ever truly forget her, but he needed to press forward and not cling to the past. He slowly detached himself from the couch and, taking one last glance where Sarah's room had been, strode out of the suite.

Once on the other side, everything shifted from well-painted two dimensional to impossible reality. As soon as she entered their world, the gods and goddesses swarmed her, grasping her arms and pulling her gently towards a large golden throne, whispering welcomes and compliments in her ears, the low tones warming her insides and making her surprisingly drowsy. She let them guide her onto the platform where they proceeded to simultaneously brush her long hair and strip her of her soiled gown. She felt alarm race through her, and she tried to push them away, or at least protest, but she felt cumbersome, as if all her energy had been zapped from her. The men dressed her in a long-sleeved white gown with a gold, bejeweled corset while the women plaited her hair in a complicated pattern that she had never seen before. They placed her onto the high-back throne, lavishing her with compliments and delicacies.

However, even with all the attention, Sarah did not feel comfortable. She watched everyone bustling around her, her brain on high alert. What the _hell_ were they doing? She had to get out of this, get back to her world, where her mother and Jeremy were, and Toby, and Paolo, and even Robert and Irene. But her body would not respond to her alerts, only lie limply against the comfortable throne, feeling the pleasure of being waited on, even though her mind would not.

"Milady…" murmured a unbelievably gorgeous buxom blonde in her ear, "I am Venus, your most humble servant. I wish to give you a gift." On her head, Venus placed a rather large and weighty gold and silver crown, bedecked in thousands of diamonds, shining brilliantly.

"Oh, milady, you are so beautiful." Venus cooed in Sarah's ear.

"You truly are worthy to be called queen." Diana added

"King Jareth is very lucky to have you for his own." Ceres said.

_Jareth?_ Sarah thought, relieved and confused and frightened all at once at the mention of the Goblin King, _What are they talking about?_

"Hello, Sarah." Came a voice. It was a voice she had dreamt about for years, a voice that had both scared and excited her, and a voice she would never soon forget.

Jareth.

He appeared before her, stunning in all his glory. Looking at him, she couldn't believe she had compared him to Jeremy. The association hardly did him justice. After all this time, he didn't look any different than when she'd first encountered him. His bright blonde hair was still wild, his eyes still mischievous, his mouth still sexy. She was glad her body wasn't working; otherwise she was sure her face would have been flaming red. He gave her an impish grin, which did a number on her heart. The goddesses moved away from her and they, along with all the other immortals, disappeared.

"I'm glad to see that you still remember me after all these years, Sarah. I would have very disappointed with you if you had not."

He looked at her as if he expected her to say something, but of course, she could not. He waved his arm towards the grand garden before her,

"How do you like this garden, Sarah? I've yet again turned the world upside down for you. Aren't I _generous_?"

If Sarah could flinch, she would have. But she could only watch him, her face blank save for her eyes, which no doubt betrayed her fear.

"This was all planned from the start, you know." He said, looking proud as he paced the length of the platform. "Let's see, where to begin? Sometimes one can never find the right place to tell a good story. I guess I'll just have to start with the very beginning—not our beginning, love, but a time even before that. I'm sure you've noticed that your Jeremy is very similar to me and that is no coincidence: Jeremy is my counterpart. Not the technical term, I assure you, but a good description nonetheless. You see, we immortals are so powerful that for every magical faery, elf, or daemon that is born in the Underground, there is a mortal in the Aboveground born specifically to balance them out. Not every mortal is a counterpart—you are not one, for example—but there are quite a few, and Jeremy is mine. And as my counterpart, I am connected to him in a way that not even I can describe. When he feels emotions towards anything, I am more vulnerable to feel it, too, and vice versa. That's not to say that I'm going to immediately feel what he's feeling, it just means that I'm more liable to feel them towards the object he felt for. Just because a counterpart feels emotion for a certain object, it doesn't mean that the other will, as well, but it just makes them more susceptible to the emotions."

Seeing the confusion in her eyes, Jareth immediately clarified, "Compare it to a cut and bacteria. If the counterpart feels an intense emotion—like love or anger—it creates a 'cut' on the other, making easier for the same 'bacteria' to get into it and create similar emotions on the said object than it would on someone who had no cut.

"This connection was highly useful and the basis for my whole plan. You see, after your foolish little bout of defiance, you completely bound me from using any magic against you. This certainly would not do when I had so many things planned for you. However, I thought about my counterpart and his connection with you and _Viola!_" He snapped his fingers.

"Throughout the course of about…I should say two years human time, I've been inside Jeremy's dreams, slowly manipulating his mind to suit my own purposes."

He laughed as Sarah's face contorted into surprise as everything came together in her mind.

"That's right, love. _I _made Jeremy suggest that he and your mother be—what is the human term for it?—ah, yes, married. _I _made him speed up the ceremony, and _I _made him invite you to Venice. Why? So I could regain power over you." He grinned, his handsome features twisting into an alarming expression. He held up his hand and in it formed a peach, so large and swelled that it seemed to be almost an exact replica of the one she had eaten not but a mere hour ago. Had it only been an hour?

"I took the guise of a fruit vendor in the market not far from where Jeremy resided and—with the hidden compulsion triggered by his dreams—sold him a peach. However, it was not an ordinary peach. Inside this peach held the very essence of my magic, which you willingly took into yourself when you ate it. Now that my magic now permanently resides in you—" He raised his other arm—"I have _complete_ power over you."

With a flick of his wrist, Sarah shot up out of her chair with all the finesse of a marionette. Her arm hung limply to her sides and her head lolled backwards as her feet dragged her towards him. She felt terror rip through her as she stared into his triumphant eyes, and tried to pull away, or at least regain some sort of power over her body so that she could resist him. The peach disappeared from his hand as he gripped her arms and dragged her towards him. He smiled his signature smile that made her body quiver in both pleasure and fear. He saw both in her eyes.

"What's the matter, Sarah? No witty phrases or acerbic words to dole out? I should think that you would be full of them. Don't tell me my divine magnificence has actually silenced that tongue of yours."

You _wish_, Sarah thought savagely. What a pompous, insufferable bastard! If only she could move her hands…

Jareth brought his face close to hers, so close that she could feel his warm, sweet breath on her face. He reached a gloved hand to caress her jaw line, the leather tickling her skin, "Too old to be a goblin, but now, old enough to be kept by me. And yet still, damn your innocent eyes." He whispered huskily. And then without any warning at all, Jareth's lips were crashing down upon hers with such ferocity that it bordered pain.

It was nothing like Paolo's earlier kiss, or any other she'd ever had, Sarah thought, trying desperately to fight off the fire that threatened to overwhelm her. The flames licked at her skin, a sensation not all that unpleasant and sent her heart beating pounding against her chest. His tongue licked her lips gently, then, finding no resistance, deepened the kiss, plunging his tongue deep into her mouth, exploring every inch of it, creating such a burst of pleasure that Sarah thought she might explode with its power. Heat pooled below her belly-button and created a storm of intense new feelings that she'd never before experienced. It overwhelmed her and she longed to wrap her lethargic arms around him to hold herself against him as emotions that she'd never before felt held her in an iron grip. She heard herself moan and felt her lips move against his, seeking relief.

And then she was airborne, flying across the courtyard and landing hard on the stone floor, her still-numb limbs sprawling lifelessly. The look in Jareth's eyes was nothing short of murder, and for the first time ever since having met him, she actually feared for her life. In his hand a crystal appeared, different from the others she'd yet to see, with its cloudy dark purple center, swirling ominously. She watched him, feeling both breathless and angry. Did she know nothing? Was this not Jareth, King of the Goblins? The man—no, demon—that stole away her brother not 3 years before? _What a fine time to let your hormones get in the way,_ She chastised herself, helpless as she watched the ball skillfully twirled in his hand and alternating glances at it and then at her.

* * *

Hoped you like it. See you next time!

After what seemed an eternity to Sarah, he stopped the ball and spared it one last look before turning to Sarah, "Not yet, Sarah. You've been a bad girl. It's time to face your punishment." And then he threw the ball at her.


	6. Malicious Memories

*looks at the calender and grimaces* Oh, my stars and knickers I am SO sorry about the late late LATE update. Everytime I sat down to write the dang story, I could only get down a few words then I'd be stuck on the next part. Of course, while that was bad enough, I kind of...erm, *cough* dislocated my knee *cough cough*. So yea, I've been kind of preoccupied with that, too.

Disclaimer: Sadly, Labyrinth does not belong to me; if it did, you bet your buns there would be some more lemony fluffiness between Sarah and Jareth in the sequel! All material and characters recognized belong to Jim Henson--rest his soul--and Company. All original material, characters, and plot belong to me.

Anywho, without further ado, I give you the 5th the chapter of Gnarled Hearts Chained and Cruel!  


* * *

Chapter 5

Pain. Lust. Anger. Despair. Love. All those emotions and more hit Sarah like a freight train as the crystal shattered at her feet. Movement chose to return to her in that moment, although Sarah could do little more than squirm under the onslaught of emotions that assaulted her senses until she thought she could no longer bear it. How dare she leave me! How dare she defy me when I've given her everything she's ever wanted! The thoughts swept her up in a storm of emotions as she saw herself in her mind's eye, but backwards—innocent, somehow, yet totally evil at the same time. I love her! I want her so much! She can't abandon me. I won't _let _her. She's mine!

Sensation after sensation swamped her mercilessly as she jumped from thought to agonizing thought. She felt tears spill down her cheeks at the intensity of it all.

Jareth watched her struggle with grim satisfaction, "How does it feel, Sarah? How does it feel to live through those excruciating memories and feelings? I have to live through them every waking hour. What you feel is but a mere glimpse of the torture your rejection had put me through."

"Stop…"Sarah sobbed through her tears, "Please—make it stop!" She thrashed violently, trying to rid herself of pain that engulfed her. Everything he'd ever felt for her coursed through her veins, choking her in its viselike grip.

Jareth shook his head, "Oh, no, Sarah. Not just yet. For three years I've borne those blasted emotions without relief. And it's all because of _you._ I should think that it's fair that you see what I felt. Perhaps then, you will come to appreciate all that I've done for you."

Sarah didn't speak, but lay gasping as his anger seeped out of her, but was replaced with something far more potent. She sobbed as a wave of pure, raw desire hit her, this time not about herself, but for Jareth. Her body ached with need, and she desperately sought him, craving his touch like a drug _Oh, my…_ "Jareth…" she gasped.

Jareth grinned viciously, "Oh, Sarah, is something wrong? You look like you're in _pain_."

Sarah couldn't have retorted even if she wanted to. The mere sound of his voice played over her skin, teasing her senses and sending her body spiraling. Her hips bucked sharply as her body threatened to shatter into thousands of pieces. This went far deeper than simply the _want_ or _desire_ she had read in books—yes, there had been books—this was a burning need, spreading throughout her body and latching on like wildfire, driving everything out of her mind except for him. She moaned, her hands grasping frantically against the stone floor, desperate to anchor herself against the storm of raging emotions

Jareth was positively thrilled at the reactions that Sarah had given him. He had created the spell specifically to make her feel every emotion he'd endured for three years, but he'd never dream she'd have reacted so strongly to it. Granted, he'd magically enhanced every emotion by thrice, but that was necessary; he wasn't about to make her go through three years of torture—that would take far too long—so he had to find another way to make sure she fully understood his disposition.

He walked toward her writhing form, his face positively beaming with satisfaction as he watched her fall prey to her own emotions. He gave a mock gentlemanly bow towards her, sweeping low so that his gloved hand could caress her face. Sarah flinched as if she had been burned.

"As much I do enjoy watching you suffer, I have important matters to attend to. Matters, I'm afraid, are more important than my revenge on you. Goodbye, Sarah." And with that, Jareth disappeared. The world around her immediately went black, as if the sunlight had turned itself off with his departure.

"No! Wait! Come back…" Sarah stopped as another wave of desire coursed through her. Images played in her head; strange, erotic fantasies of Jareth and her together, crowding her mind and pushing her arousal further over the edge so that it went beyond the point of pain. Tears rolled down her cheeks freely as she sobbed,

"Come back…please…_come back_…"

--

Sarah didn't know how long she'd been there. Jareth's mind circulated within hers, every emotion he'd ever felt, from joy to lust to anger rocked her to her very core as memories both festive and disheartening forced themselves upon her, filling her thoughts continually, tearing her apart with their powerful, conflicting influences, making it very difficult for her to concentrate on anything else for even a small amount of time. Every so often, she would see goblins, and they would come to bathe or nourish her paralyzed body, but Sarah found they were little help to her otherwise. The first time they came, she begged and pleaded for them to help her, to free her from this prison, but they only ignored her, silently and somberly focusing on their tasks without any acknowledgment of her pleas. She gave up after the third attempt.

Jareth would always come back to her eventually, and he was far worse than the goblins, taunting her and teasing her even while her body yearned for his and commanded fulfillment. Every time he came, he would whisper sweet seductions in her ear and touch her feather-light in places that only fueled her heady lust. She begged for him to let her go, begged for him to free her from this hellish prison, and every time, he would laugh and caress her skin enticingly, leaving trails of tingling fire that did little to aid her already frayed sanity. He would whisper in her ear as she sobbed, broken, "Not yet, love. I endured this for years, you should be able to handle these mere days."

And then he would disappear, leaving her to wallow in her own pitiful existence, undergoing wave after wave of potent memory. She would get caught up in the intense childish merriment of his memories of younger days spent with his mother and siblings even though she knew that all the emotions were fake, which only made the memories all the worse. She would watch as he grew up and nearly went insane as she felt him experience arousal for the first time for the chambermaid and their graphic coupling when he'd finally gotten her into his bed that proved his prowess as a man, even as a inexperienced one.

But above all the memories, it was his most recent memories that were the most distressing. She was forced to hate herself because of her refusal of Jareth, and would spend hours upon hours of picking apart every single small flaw without mercy, shattering every ounce of confidence she'd had until her very core was raw and bleeding. She wept bitterly as she thought of Jareth, not even able to curse or hate him for all the love and desire of him she felt for him. It was a cruel fate, indeed, to be made to hate one's self and then forced to love the very person who cursed them.

--

Jareth sat on his throne and watched Sarah through his crystal with stony eyes. Her eyes were red and puffy; she'd been crying ever since he'd cast his spell eight days ago, hardly ever stopping even when she was consumed by lust. At first, he was thrilled to watch her suffer as he had, spending days in his chambers in a deep, dank, horrible depression. His heart dropped at even the remembrance of them. He was not proud to admit it, of feeling the misery and confusion of why she did not pick him, of why she had rejected him. His goblin advisors had to come in repeatedly to remind him of his duties and several times he wondered if they might try to overthrow him for being so weak. At that point, he wouldn't have cared, he was so wrapped up in her. And now she was feeling it, too. He wondered if she finally understood now.

As he stared at her image, he decided it was enough. It had only been eight days, meager compared to his three years, but looking at her now, pitiful and broken and looking every inch as he had, maybe she learned her lesson. He threw the ball away from him as if it were poison, and it shattered it into millions of pieces and disappearing as if it had never been. Jareth launched himself from his throne and stalked out of the room, towards the garden where he kept Sarah.

He opened the door to find her lying pitifully on the stone floor, her skirts billowing around her and hiked up around her sprawled legs so that he could glance at her thighs beneath the fabric. He allowed himself briefly wicked thoughts before approaching her. She noticed him and whimpered pathetically, her arms moving in what he realized was a feeble attempt at trying to move away from him. He frowned and knelt down beside her and touched her hair. She flinched,

"Stop." She whispered brokenly, the clearest she had ever spoken since she came to the Underground.

Jareth picked her up and cradled her into his lap, rocking her slightly and stroking her hair as if she were a small child.

"It's alright, Sarah," he said, in a gentle tone he hadn't used since his predecessor was on his deathbed, "It's almost over. But first, I need to ask you something very important. You must answer clearly. Sarah, will you become my bonded mate? Ride the sea of time with me and become my worldly companion? Sarah, will you…"he struggled for a moment, trying to remember the human term, "ah, yes. Sarah will you _marry _me?" He awaited her answer on eggshells, sure of her answer but terrified of her rejection. _Again._

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity all in itself, Sarah moaned, turned her head so that she could speak clearly.

"Yes."

With that, her face slumped back into the warmth of his chest. Jareth's heart leapt in excitement and he felt the glowing satisfaction of triumph that he had felt naught but days before. He tried to keep it out of his voice when he spoke, "Alright, Sarah, I just need you to do one simple thing for me, and then you'll be free. Hold out your palm."

He felt her nod against his chest and slowly, almost lethargically raised her arm and offered him her hand. He grasped it with one and with the other, conjured up a bejeweled knife. Before Sarah could have realized his intentions, he brought the knife down on her palm. Sarah cried out and tried to pull her injured hand away from him, but Jareth kept a firm grasp on her. Wordlessly, he bent down to the cut and placed his lips to it, taking the spilling blood into his mouth. Sarah's movements suddenly went limp and Jareth realized with a pang of guilt that the shock must have pushed her exhaustion over the edge. All the better, he thought. This would go much smoother without her struggles, anyway.

* * *

I'm sorry its so short, but better a short one than none, right? *Dodges sharp objects* Okay, okay, I'm sorry! I promise the next one will be longer.

I might end up rewriting this chapter, who knows. I'm not too happy with it; give me some feedback, and if need be, I'll make it better, so REVIEW please!

Hey, as a side note, I'm looking for a beta for this--I honestly think it will make things a 101% better and easier so if you happen to know a good beta--or ARE a good beta, then message me. PLEASE? I'll give you a virtual cookie!


	7. Marriages, Escapes, and Painful Mistakes

Sorry, Sorry, sorry for the late uploads. I know I've been horrible, but I HAVE been writing like a mad woman. I swear I hit every friggen snag on the way. I'm actually several chapters ahead of what I actually post, so that way I know what I'm doing and don't contradict myself. Everytime I finish a chapter, I send the next one out. And I swear, this latest chapter I wrote was the weirdest one to write. The plot thickened without my even realizing it ( I LOVE it when that happens), I had to delete scenes, change scenes, add scenes, rewrite dialogue that I felt were too OOC (which by the way, I want you guys to tell me if it ever feels OOC to you. I really don't like OOC, so please tell me if I do it!!!), all that jazz.

So, without further ado, here is Chapter 6!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Labyrinth! Any materials, characters, or plot lines recognized from the film belong to Jim Henson--rest his soul--and company. The original plot, characters, or materials, however, DO belong to me.

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Chapter 6

Sarah noticed two things when she woke up. One, that she her body felt like lead and two, that her head throbbed with such an intensity that she cried out as soon as she woke, clasping her head with her hands and crying out again as the movement created another stab of pain. She forced herself to lay there and wait for the headache to subside. It took several long, agonizing minutes before the pain lessened to the point where Sarah noticed a third thing that she had not before: that she was laying on something soft and warm. Something that was _not _the cold stone of the dark dungeon. Sarah bolted upright, forgetting her migraine. She groaned but otherwise ignored the pain. She wasn't in the dungeon anymore. She was in the largest, and certainly the most lavish room she had ever seen! It was at least the size of the first level of her house, if not bigger. The walls were a mauve color with deep purple molding and the carpet a thick, shaggy white. The furniture was simple and white, yet at the same time, the straightforward design of the vanity and the bookcase and the sitting chairs somehow added to the elegance. By the large mother-of-pearl fireplace sat a little parlor in miniature with three plump couches surround it and what she could only guess to be a coffee table of sorts.

She gasped at the splendor of it and collapsed into her plush four-poster bed. Where was she? Was Jareth only a dream? She desperately wanted to believe that it was, but she had to shake her head. A dream doesn't last that long or could possibly feel that real. And if it were a dream, why was she in this room? Why wasn't she in her hotel room in Venice?

A small knock came to her door. "Milady? Is you awake? May I come in?"

Sarah didn't answer, but the door opened anyway. To her surprise, a petit goblin walked into her room carrying a tray. This goblin wasn't like the others Sarah had encountered. While the others were noisy and smelly, and some had very odd shapes even for goblins, this one was quiet and polite and…domesticated. The she-goblin was squat, rising only to what Sarah could guess as three feet, and her face was oddly shaped with her big golf-ball eyes, long curved nose, and floppy doggish ears; in her hands she carried a tray with a silver cover over what looked, and smelled to be breakfast. Sarah's stomach growl as her senses were assaulted with delicious new smells that surely beat the bland, gritty gruel she was used to.

It was then that Sarah felt a great swell of anger as memories of the past came upon her. _Jareth_. Yes, that was right. _Jareth _tricked her into coming to Venice. _Jareth_ tricked her into ignoring her every instinct and to eating another one of his rotten peaches. He trapped her yet again and damn it all, she fell for every one of his tricks like the idiot she was!

She emitted an unnaturally realistic animal's growl towards the goblin as she set down the tray on the nightstand beside her. The goblin jumped back with a startled yelp and cowered under Sarah's glare. This was the same goblin that ignored her pleas for help in that cell. The very same. She had the audacity to come to her with that sweet, innocent servant's look _now_?

"Get away from me! Get away from me you stupid, fowl goblin!" Sarah screamed, the sound so shrill that Sarah herself winced. The goblin just stared at her, obviously terrified, but this only piqued Sarah's anger more. For emphasis, Sarah grabbed at the silver platter laid at her bedside and, giving her another equally shrill, "Get out!" threw the platter towards the goblin. It hit its target and the heavy metal tray hit the she-goblin with a loud bang on her shoulder. She gave a large yowl as it hit the floor with a clang, the food littering around the tray in a messy heap. In spite of her obviously hurt shoulder, the goblin stooped to clean the mess. Sarah, frustrated beyond belief that the goblin wouldn't listen to her, picked up the nearest thing she could grab—a vase—and chucked it as well. The goblin quickly got the message as the blue and purple vase missed her head by inches and shattered on the ground beside her; she jumped up and ran out of the room as fast as she could.

When the large double doors closed, Sarah flew out of bed in a flurry of sheets and covers and ran, tripped over impossibly large skirts, then got up and ran again to them and gripped the handle.

Locked. Sarah cursed and then went to the window on the other side of the room, unlocked it, and opened it up as far as she could. She peered down out of it, trying to measure the height with which she could safely jump. She gulped nervously as she counted. It was easily 10 stories or more to the hard, cobblestone ground. Even if she ripped all cushioning from this spacious room, she doubted that it would be enough to soften her fall. She leaned against the wall for support. What was she going to do?

She looked around and spied, with a rush of excitement, another set of double doors that she had not yet tried to open. Picking up as much of her skirt as she could, she rushed to the doors and found that these were unlocked. Her cries of triumph were soon turned to disappointment as she realized that this was just a walk-in closet—the largest one she'd ever seen, but not very useful for her plans.

"Still, I guess at the least I could try and get out of this tent," she said to herself, looking down disdainfully at her pretty dress. Escaping would be much easier if she had more room to move and less needed concentration on not falling over her over-abundant skirts. _Honestly, who wears dresses like this? One dress could fully clothe a family for at least a whole winter!_

She went through rack after rack of colorful dresses, each time getting more frustrated than the last. They were all the same! The dresses were all floor length with insanely long trains; the only differences in them were the coloring, sleeve designs and the necklines. It was downright maddening!

Finally, she gave up and went back to one of the most beautiful and expensive-looking ones. It was a deep blue with a V-neck halter that plunged below the chest and ended with a sparkling brooch made of diamonds and sapphires. The material was soft and as fine as silk but as sturdy as cotton—some unknown Underground material, obviously.

She grinned with wicked satisfaction. If she couldn't find a suitable dress, she'd have to _make _one! At first she wanted to find a simpler dress, but then remembered that these dresses belonged to Jareth. Why shouldn't she take it? It's not like he doesn't have enough to spare one _tiny_ little dress. And besides, the brooch could help when she escaped; she was no jewel critique, but she imagined it was worth a pretty penny and a little money never hurt when you're on the run.

Taking a pair of oddly-made white shears from the back of the closet (which she'd found to be a fitting room) she put the dress on, measured an appropriate height just above her knees, and sheared away, taking a childlike satisfaction in ruining the dress. She cut two slits in the sides for easy running and, pleased with her work, walked out with the shears—for added protection, of course.

Imagine the shock Sarah received coming out of the closet to see Jareth leaning against a column of her four poster bed, smiling at her with an aggravating look of male self-satisfaction.

"Hello, Sarah," he said lightly.

She gasped and pressed herself against the closet door, causing it to close with a loud _bang!_

Jareth laughed, "It's nice to see you, too, Sarah. I see you are surprised to see me—oh, don't tell me you wrote me off as a dream again. That would be rather foolish of you, wouldn't it, seeing as how that was what got you into this mess in the first place."

Sarah gripped the shears hidden behind her back. Anger bloomed in her stomach, spreading to the farthest ends of her body. Her lips pursed themselves and her eyes narrowed into near slits.

Jareth laughed again at her reaction. "Oh, such an angry look. If I'm not careful, I doubt my poor goblins will have a king for them any longer." With that, he pushed him self off the bed post. He started to walk towards her. "I hear you've been harassing the servants. That's not nice."

With every step made towards her, Sarah made an opposing step, keeping the space between them nice and long. They began circling around each other in the large, spacious room. "Knut told me that you gave her a fright when she brought breakfast to you. Chucked the tray at her, then the decorative vase—a very expensive one, I might add. Now you ruined one of your best dresses. I can see that it's going to take some time training you in the ways of royal etiquette."

"Why should I care?" Sarah retorted hotly. "That stupid goblin helped you keep me prisoner; I didn't want it near me, and if you lose a few of your gaudy valuables, all the better. And like hell you'd _ever_ get me to take one of your damned etiquette lessons!" Why bother pretending that she was going to stay? Jareth was many things, but he wasn't stupid; he knew that she wanted to get out of this damned place as soon as possible so she wasn't going to bother trying that old lure-into-a-false-sense-of-security crap.

But much to Sarah's chagrin, Jareth's smile never wavered. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, love. The vase and dress are nothing compared to the vast fortune at my disposal. And the etiquette lessons, I'm sorry to say, are painful but necessary. I couldn't much care how you behave at my own castle but other the nobles aren't very forgiving, especially when an outsider comes into the fold. I can't very well have you accidentally snubbing someone of importance."

"Well, then, I can solve that problem very easily. I'll just leave and get out of your hair, that way you don't have to worry about my 'snubbing' important people or breaking your valuables." She said.

"I'm afraid that that wouldn't work. At this point in time you aren't allowed to travel very far from me."

"What do you mean?"

His grin suddenly turned wicked but he said nothing. This infuriated Sarah even more. "Tell me!" She raised the shears in her hand threateningly.

"There we are, love. Not even Bonded three days and you already want to kill me. How _will_ we get along for the rest of eternity?"

"What are you talking about?" she said, confused. Even as she asked, she felt dread dropped weight in her heart like stones. _Oh, no…_

"Tsk, tsk, Sarah, you're smarter than that. Even if the words aren't the same, you should be able to guess."

"No…" Sarah shook her head in denial.

"Oh, yes…don't you remember? I'm heart-broken." He clasped his chest theatrically. "You don't remember our…wedding?"

Somehow, she knew what he was going to say even before he even got it all out, and let out an ear-piercing scream as he finished, "NO! No no no no no _no!_ You lie!"

"But I do not. I cannot say that we are if it isn't true. And I can't bond us without your express consent."

Sarah's eyes were wild with shock and anger. She would _never_ agree to marry Jareth! Ever! "I would nev—!" Then a piece of memory, as vague and blurry as a dream from years past, came to her mind—Jareth was holding her, his arms warm and strong against the cold stone, asking her to marry him, and her consenting to it.

Her hand rose to her quivering mouth, shaking her head. She felt tears well in her eyes, but thankfully they didn't spill; they wouldn't do her any good, but she couldn't have stopped them if she tried.

Jareth took a step towards her and it was this that finally broke Sarah out of her shocked paralysis. She took her scissors and, with a particularly well placed aim, chucked them at Jareth. He caught it before it could speared his cheek, but not before the sharp tips pierced his skin, letting droplets of—water?— bloom around the shears' tips, but while serious injury would have been satisfying, that wasn't what she was looking for. After she threw the shears, she bolted for the door. In a stroke of good fortune, it was unlocked. She threw back the door and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Which, she found with delight, was rather fast. She never stayed straight; she didn't want to make it make it easier for him. As she ran, she felt vaguely grateful that the floors were flat and uncovered, making it easier and actually better on her bare feet. She found a flight of stairs that led down and ran. They seemed to take forever to run down, and her legs were burning with the strain.

Finally, she hit the bottom of the steps that led to an archway and took a sharp right that led down another long corridor. She took turns every time she got, leading into many long corridors and spacious, glamorous, if not a little unused, rooms. But no matter how much she ran, and even though her legs and feet begged her to slow, she found no doors leading to the escape from the castle. She found a door to a garden, but it never led outside the castle, simply back into another set of hallway with many doors. She tried countless doors, and more often than not, they were locked.

After what seemed like hours—although it was only in the span of 10 minutes—Sarah, legs hurting, chest heaving, and trying another of many locked doors, screamed in frustration and struck the solid wood door with considerable force. Why wasn't she getting anywhere? And where was everybody? Surely a castle of this size needed servants to tend it?

What she did not know was that many of the doors had previously been open, but magically locked under Jareth's watchful eyes in his crystal ball. He was mildly incensed that she had attacked him, even though it hardly did him any damage. How dare she assault _him_, her mate, her lord and master? She was going to learn that one did not cross the Goblin king. He'd been far too lenient with her. Wasn't a full week of torture not enough for her? Must she push to see how much she could get away with? He would teach her, the hard way. Blocking the way out was the first part, the easy part. Locking the doors by thought and veiling the exits was simple enough. Blinding her from seeing the swarming mass of goblin servants who watched her curiously had been rather simple, too. They stayed warily out of her so she wouldn't strike them—they'd heard what'd happened to Knut, and rather didn't fancy crossing their new queen's wrath—so he didn't have to worry about her running into them accidentally, but it was the next part he didn't particularly want to deal with, as it was going to affect him, too.

He waved his hand over the ball and took away a veil to a door that led directly outside and to the most direct path outside to the labyrinth. When there wasn't a Runner, the Labyrinth was rather accommodating to its occupants. It would let Sarah out, especially if Jareth willed it.

Sarah sat down against the door and held her head in despair. How was she ever going to get out of his damn place? She cursed profusely, but refused to let the tears of frustration spill. _Damn him_, she thought. _Damn him straight to whatever hell spawned him._

When she looked up, she noticed something she did not before. There was an entryway that led to a mess room that led to a door. Ordinary enough, she thought, _except for that there was sunlight coming in through the window_. Without a single thought as to why she didn't notice it before, Sarah leapt of the floor so fast it looked as if she'd been a bullet fired by a gun. She ran with renewed energy, as fast as her legs could carry her, to the door, as if it might disappear any second. She burst through the wood door with a bang, relief that it wasn't locked swelling within her as the sun's warm rays hit her and her feet hit first hard dirt, then plush grass. She looked around her in awe.

It was clearly summer, if the sun's heat and the trees' bloom were any indication. The sky was the most perfect shade of blue she'd ever seen and large white fluffy clouds floated lazily in it. A light summer breeze glided her skin and into the large tree in front of her, rustling the leaves softly. It sent shivers of pleasure up her spine.

Then she remembered that she was supposed to run, not admire the scenery. She cursed and looked back toward the castle and saw a servant's path. She decided to follow it. If this is a servant's path, it leads out of the palace grounds, right? That's what she was hoping at any rate.

As a matter of fact, it _did_ lead out of the grounds, Sarah found with delight. It even went out through a separate, secluded doorway exclusively for servants. As she opened the door, she realized something. This was _way_ too easy. No guards, no servants, no _nothing._ Not even Jareth has made his usually showy appearance. _What could he be doing?_ She thought as she walked off of the castle grounds. But there was nothing she could do about it, anyway, even if it was weird. What was she going to do, walk back and ask him why he wasn't stopping her? Not happening.

Goblin City was an entirely different place from her previous visits. The whole place was simply buzzing, a diversity of different sights, sounds, and smells. Not all unpleasant smells, Sarah realized as her stomach suddenly growled and admonished her foolishness, sending that tray of food flying earlier in the castle. An empty stomach was never a good thing, especially in situations like this.

But she had no time for this; she needed to get out of there as fast as possible. She ran as fast she could through the busy streets, with urchin goblins yelling out the value of their wares and people chattering loudly in the wide streets. It was hard to maneuver about the constantly moving creatures and just as she was reaching the opened gates of the city, she felt a hard pull at her skirt that nearly ripped it. She looked down to see an elderly she-goblin looking up at her kindly.

"'Morning, milady. Off so soon?" she asked.

Sarah ignored the formality and tugged at her dress to try and loose the goblin's grasped, "Let go!"

The goblin tsked, "Oh, no, Lady Sarah, you canna' leave just yet. Y' haven't had an'thing to eat." She pulled out a loaf of coarse bread out of her pockets, "Y' canna' think to outrun the kingy, can ya, if you donna' have an'thing in yer belly."

A painful stab of hunger agreed with the goblin's words. Sarah wanted so bad to reach for it, but then she remembered. How many times has she fallen for Jareth's trap before? What if this was some sort of way to lull her into a false sense of security? Remembering the peach, Sarah thought, _what if this is another piece of contaminated food?_

Sarah tried to wrench herself away from goblin woman, "I don't want your food! Now _let me go!_" and just like that, the woman goblin was thrown backward as if struck and Sarah hauled butt of out of the gates.

The gobliness shook her head sadly as she watched Sarah's retreating form go into the stone columns of the Labyrinth . "Th' poor lass." She said, "Sc'red of a thing of bread. Kingy must've done her bad if'n she wouldna even taken a morsel of bread from a helpin' hand to aid her hurtin' belly." With that, she walked back to the crowded market.

As soon as Sarah hit the labyrinth, she grimaced. This was where Jareth would get her, she thought. This is _his _labyrinth, and he could very easily trap her here as he did before. Make her starve here for days before coming to reclaim her. But this was the only way out—she'd seen it herself, years ago. The labyrinth was a fortress, surrounding the whole of Goblin City and the Goblin Castle so that no one could get in or out without the express command of the king. Sarah kept running, anyway. She'd gotten in before, so she can get out, too. She would rather starve and die than become Jareth's play toy for him to amuse himself with.

Come to find out, there would be no need for starving and dying that day. Far faster than it took to get in, it only took a half-hour of turning and running to find the exit. The path to the exit was much more evident than the one to the castle.

She pushed on the familiar stone doors and they gave way. However, Sarah was startled to find that she didn't come out at the barren hills, but a lush green forest. She supposed it shouldn't surprise her that the labyrinth had exits in other places as well, but seeing as how she had only been here once, she never gave it much thought that there were different places outside than just a barren dessert. Now it seemed silly of her not to.

She took off into the forest. There was wide path, thankfully, for caravans and wagons to import their crops and merchandise. Sarah honestly didn't know if her feet could stand to run through the rough forest floor and possibly ruin them.

Trees and shrubs rushed past her in a blur and as she pumped her legs, the adrenaline giving her an extra boost. If she kept running like this, she joked to herself, she could've easily been able to compete in the '88 Olympics and won.

She'd been running only 10 minutes when she felt it—a tugging on her heartstrings, something between guilt and apprehension. At first it was easily ignorable, and Sarah was able to run for a few minutes more, jumping fallen trees and dips in the road. But it gradually grew, and by the time the Labyrinth disappeared behind the trees, Sarah stumbled and had to slow down. Her chest heaved and it wasn't from the running. It wasn't from exhaustion, either; it was more like she was hyperventilating.

_Don't leave, no, no, can't leave, no, Jareth, no leave, no Jareth, love, no, can't leave, never leave, never. _The scrambled incoherent thoughts were like a broken record in her mind. She tried to keep walking but her heart thudded painfully, slamming against her chest and causing her to trip. She landed harshly on her knees, but the pain didn't register. _No, no, can't leave, no, must complete, no, never, Jareth, love, love, no leave, no Jareth, no leave, complete, Jareth, must complete—_

Sarah fought to breathe, as if an invisible hand closed off her throat. Her heart beat in her ears, loudly, irregularly, as if she were about to explode. _Can't leave, no, no, love, never, leave Jareth, no, must complete, never leave, never leave, love, must never leave—_

"Somebody—" Sarah gasped, reaching out at the air. "Help…please! Help…me…so—"

A leather boot appeared in her vision, and immediately the thoughts went away, replaced with an overwhelming relief. Her heart still labored to find its pace again, but she was able to breathe again, although the sudden rush of air made her dizzy. She couldn't even find any strength to look up, but she knew who it was, anyway.

"Sarah, your headstrong ways a liable to get us both killed," Jareth admonished as if he were talking to a child. His breath sounded slightly labored, as well.

Irritation rose swiftly, "You…" she couldn't finish, as the act of talking made her raw throat itch, sending her into a fit of coughs. She felt warm hands pick her up and cursed her traitorous body for the trill of pleasure that that spread through her. Jareth cradled her against his chest and Sarah could finally see his face, surprisingly unmarred even though she'd drawn…_something _earlier. There was an aggravating mixture of smugness and amusement in his face that made her grind her teeth, but there was also something else there, something almost…tender.

Sarah blinked in surprise, and just like that, it was gone. Jareth stared at her with the most serious expression she'd ever seen on him, "Don't ever do that again, Sarah."

She tensed, and said hoarsely, "Who do you think you are telling me what to—"

"Your husband."

With that, they disappeared.

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So how'd you like it? Don't be afraid to tell me. I'm open to constructed criticism! However, I do ask that we we keep flaming to a minimum, please? All it does is put me in a bad mood and doesn't help anyone. Thank you for reading! ^_^


	8. Battles, Bonds, and Rebelling Fate

Chapter 7

As soon as Sarah's vision stopped spinning she shoved against Jareth's chest. He let her go and she stumbled backwards. She looked around to find that they were back in the room they'd been in before. _Back to where I started in the first place, _she growled.

To him she said, "You're _not _my husband."

He nodded, going back to his perpetually smug smile, "You're right. I am not your _husband_ in the ways of human matrimony; that implies a shallow binding that can be broken in a moment's notice, like your parents'" Jareth ignored the outraged glares from Sarah, "what we _are_ are Bonded Mates of Faery. Once bonded, we can never be separated."

Sarah simply stared at him. 'Bonded Mates' he'd said. What does that mean? "You had no right." She said, deathly calm.

"Your nearly destroyed me the first time you left me. I wasn't going to let you do it again."

"But you had _no right_." She repeated again, louder.

"Sarah, you don't seem to understand—" he started, but Sarah stopped him.

"You had _no right! _No right, no right, _no right!_" Sarah screamed at the top of her lungs like a petulant child—only this time, it was warranted. "You took me away from _everyone!_ Toby, my parents, Jeremy, Irene, Paolo, _everyone!_ You ripped me away from my life just because you couldn't stand to be told no. And you expect me to be okay with it? You stupid, arrogant, selfish, cruel jerk!" she started screaming various other curses at him, her entire body shaking and her face burning red with rage.

He took a step towards her, his expression hard, "Sarah—"

"Stop!" she screeched, hysterical. Tears formed and ran down her cheeks in rivers of salt water, "Get away from me! I never want to see you again. I loathe you, I _detest _you. The very sight of you makes me sick! We may be married or mated or whatever, but I refuse to ever look at you again. You do not _exist _to me, and I will not talk to you even on the day I die!"

Sarah turned on her heel and ran to the massive walk-in closet she'd been in earlier—she couldn't even remember how long ago it had been since. She opened the door, still thankfully unlocked, and ran inside. As soon as the door closed behind her, she broke out into loud sobs—sobs of grief, sobs of anger, sobs of frustration, but mostly sobs of hopelessness. She collapsed against the door, clutching at her knees, bracing herself against them. Her long hair fell over her eyes like a veil. She heard movement come towards the door and said, "Leave me alone, Jareth! For heaven's sake, haven't you already taken enough away from me?"

For a moment, Sarah heard nothing, then boots thumping against the floor, then silence again. She clasped her head in her hands. He was wrong. There has to be something. There _has _to be. This couldn't be her destiny, to be forever married to a cruel, heartless, selfish man—not even a man!

_But isn't this what you wanted, Sarah? _A voice asked in her head. _Weren't you the one who was pining over Jareth so hopelessly?_

Yea, but that was before this, she thought angrily. Who could ever love someone who stole them away from their family and life and _tortured _them?

The voice started to answer, but afraid of the answer she already knew, she shook her head and screamed.

*JSJSJSJSJSJSJS*

Days passed in a blur. Sometimes Sarah wondered if she was back in the dungeon again, but the pain changed. Instead of feeling Jareth's intense emotions, she felt her own. She would never see her family again; she would never see Linda, Robert, or Toby. How are they taking it? How are her parents taking the fact their daughter disappeared? That they might never see her again? And Toby—sweet, adorable, innocent little Toby. He was so heartbroken when she left, how was he going to take it when he found out that she was never coming back?

Her heart grieved for them, for the pain they were going to feel, but it wasn't what upset her most. What upset her most was the fact that despite it all, her heart leapt for joy every time she thought of him. That her stomach _still_ clenched in anticipation every time she remembered that they were married. And, damn it, that she felt horrible, wrenching guilt when she remembered that one night when she told him she'd never wanted to see him again. He was her capture! He tortured her, married her practically against her will, and took her away from her family. While she felt guilty about her words, she meant them with a passion. She despised him for what he did to her, and yet...

…and yet.

The confusion put her in a greater state of depression and anger. For days, she's stayed in this room she'd woken up in—she refused to call it her room—and sat by the window to brood. Her only visitor, the goblin servant she had assaulted the first day—Knut, Jareth had called her—came in frequently: two times during the day to give her food, then once at night to draw her bath and bathe her. She was actually a rather gentle and quiet goblin, so unlike what Sarah had met in the past. That first night she had come into her room, it felt so awkward to be in her presence, especially when Knut told her to undress. She'd done so, very slowly, and then jumped into the water so fast she made water splash all over the floor.

Knut came with a thing that Sarah could only describe as a sponge, but it didn't look like the sponges she was used to. Smooth as glass but soft on her skin like velvet. It was then that she was told by Knut that royalty never bathed themselves; actually, it was customary for someone of her ranking—queen—to be washed by several handmaids. However, she had not been around long enough for 'kingy' (she found that to be what the goblins called Jareth) to acquire proper handmaidens for her, and that many other of the goblin servant were afraid to come near her, after what she had done to Knut.

While Knut had said this with no infliction in her tone, Sarah still felt herself riddled with guilt.

"I'm so sorry for that, by the way." She'd said.

"Oh, queeny mus' not apologize to Knut! Knut deserved it." She demurred as she scrubbed on her back. Sarah remembered with pleasure how soft and comfortable it was on her skin.

"You most certainly did not! You were only following Jareth's orders. I had no right to blame you." She turned around to look at Knut.

Knut looked appalled. "Tha' mus'n't speak of kingy so improp'ly. Queeny you may be, bu' he queeny's lord, and mus' give 'im queeny's respect." She turned Sarah back around and started on her shoulders.

This left Sarah puzzled. She was Jareth's…wife, so shouldn't they be equal? She'd voiced her thoughts to Knut, who told her,

"There is certn'ly no one more equal to kingy than queeny, and queeny is above all but kingy, and is only one you mus' answer to and give respect to."

Sarah had pondered this. So Jareth was still more powerful than her? "Why?"

"Because kingy is kingy." She'd said. Upon her questioning look, Knut tried to clarify, "Goblin have no word for it. We no think of it but once or twice in life. I—" she pointed to herself, then to Sarah, "I like queeny. I carries goblin offspring when time come, like queeny carry kingy, but kingy not carry. Kingy impreeg…impreng…makes babes with queeny, and dat make him diff' rent. Kingy magic is more strong than queeny. Kingy more powerful because he make, not carry. Becu' he more powe'ful, he earn queeny respect."

Sarah remembered the indignant anger she'd had as she processed Knut's difficult words. So because he was the male, he was more powerful, and therefore commanded her respect? She tried to swallow the tart taste in her mouth as another thought had come to her mind, "I have magic?"

"Yes, queeny have magic. When queeny was Runner, she had small magic, but now, that queeny starting to be like kingy, queeny has more."

"Like Jar—'kingy'"?

"Yes, queeny like kingy—only a little now, but grows strong every day. Even now, queeny looks different." Knut picked up a hand mirror and held it up to Sarah. Sarah took it, and, rubbing away the steam collected in its glass, looked at her reflection. At first, she couldn't see anything. Then she noticed, with a gasp, that she did look different. It was subtle, but there. Her eyes were different, greener, somehow; and clearer, almost glassy. Her skin, which had only been cursed with slight skins problems before, was now completely clear looked softer and had a faint glow to it. It made her look…ethereal.

That had been days ago, and since, she looked at herself in the mirror everyday for new changes, but she couldn't see any new differences in her appearance. She guessed it was because she looked at herself so often that small changes wouldn't be noticed.

She looked down at the hand mirror, which she kept on the table by her chair near the window. She looked different today, with her hair done in an elegant braid entwined with a silver circlet with a teardrop amethyst stone on her forehead, and a gorgeous but thankfully free moving dress of a deep plum color, with a corseted bodice with bejeweled ribbons, short sleeves and square cut collar that plunged down on her chest but still covered modestly. But that wasn't because of any new magic; it was because Knut came in and dressed her today. She normally did it herself, in a simple, coarse dress with her hair flowing freely, but Knut came in an insisted that she do it. Their relationship had become significantly better, and even though Knut wouldn't break from formalities, Sarah definitely considered her a friend—her first true friend since returning to the Underground.

She thought of her other friends in the Underground—Ludo, Hoggle, Sir Didymus, Ambrosius. Where were they? How were they faring? She wished she could see them, but first she needed tending to current matters.

Jareth. She wished she knew what to do, but for days she thought over it and couldn't come up with a solution. Simply leaving was not an option. She'd learned that the hard way, and shivered at the thought of dealing with the constricting pain again. Avoiding Jareth for the rest of her life sounded nice, but it wasn't very practical, even as much as she wished it was. That only left confronting Jareth and talking out their differences and trying to find a peaceable compromise. But she _really _didn't want to talk to him. Even thinking about it set her teeth on edge and made her fingers itch to throw something. Her hands clenched the armrests of her chair and she stood up and opened the window. She leaned out and watched the goblin servants on the grounds below get on with their chores. From her high altitude, she could see the Goblins City and hear the sounds wafting up from it. It was the same scene she had been watching in the chair, but she figured maybe a change in position would help with her thoughts. She looked up at the sky and sighed.

In the throne room, Jareth paced back and forth like an agitated dragon. And, his goblins thought warily, maybe he was one…in disguise. He'd already sent one of the goblins to the Bog for horsing around while he was in a bad mood. They wanted to leave and steer clear of the kingy and his bad moods. However, none of the Throne Room Goblins were allowed to leave without the kingy's express permission. They slept, ate, and even shat in there—but there was a special room for that. It was quite alright, ordinarily, but now, in times like this, there was no room to escape if kingy was in a foul temper.

Jareth was furious. It had been days, _days,_ and he hasn't seen her since their fight. He'd watched her through his crystals, but it was never the same. His faery blood demanded that he be near her, his newly made mate, and his every instinct was screaming at him to consummate their union. He'd so far managed to control it, but the more he denied it, the harder it became, and the concentration depleted him of his patience and he found himself snapping at everything. He even sent one of his goblins to the Bog for just doing what it was made to do. The king never felt regret, and certainly never guilt, but he was somewhat annoyed that he let his temper get the better of him. His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth clenched in a straight line

That was enough! He's given her more than enough time. They needed to talk, _now_, before he went insane. Without warning, he disappeared, leaving surprised and relieved goblins behind.

Sarah received a shock when she heard a loud, ominous crack like a whip behind her. She turned around to see Jareth, looking a thing possessed, his face contorted in a sort of animalistic fury. She back up against the window ledge as far as she could go, frightened.

He stalked towards her and Sarah felt trapped; she had no room to move and Jareth suddenly looked like a giant, even more so as he stopped mere inches in front of her, filling her vision with nothing but him.

"We need to talk." He said, an edge to his voice.

Sarah resisted the urge to ask what she'd done wrong, like a child. However, she couldn't keep the fear off of her face even though she didn't want to give him the pleasure of seeing her scared.

"What do you want?" she asked. She heard her voice tremble slightly. His harsh face seemed foreign to her; Jareth, who'd always worn a smug, amused, almost light-hearted face since they'd first met and only a few times ever managed to show a serious face. Even the murderous look he'd given her in the dungeon did not even come close to comparing.

He clasped a surprisingly ungloved hand around her small wrist, which she hadn't noticed was raised subconsciously to place a barrier between them. He pulled her forward into his arms, moved, then pushed her backwards roughly all in the same movement. She realized he put her against the wall, away from the window, completely barricading her from escape.

He brought his face down towards her, making their faces eye-level and inches apart. "We need to talk." He said again.

She raised her chin, "There's nothing to talk about."

"There is everything to talk about. You cannot avoid me forever, Sarah. I've tried giving you time, but I cannot risk my kingdom—our kingdom—for your last bit of freedom."

"What are you talking about?"

"You do not understand, because you were human and do not know the way things are; you will not feel it yet. I do not even know the full of what is going on, but I know that faery mates cannot be separated like this so soon after their Bonding."

"But I'm not a faery! I'm human, I live in the Aboveground! That is my place, not here!"

"The Aboveground is not your home. Your home is here. You are scarcely human anymore, and in a few weeks, the final transformation will be complete."

"Huh? W-what transformation?" she asked.

"When I bonded us, the ritual demanded an exchange of blood. I drank your blood, and you mine. This not only sealed us, but began the cycle of transformation for you. You will cease to be human—you will be faery."

Sarah heard her heart thump once, twice, before responding with anger, "How dare you—!"

"Enough, Sarah. I have no more time for your bouts of petulance. There are more pressing things at hand."

When Sarah didn't say anything, he started again. "I am a faery, Sarah, and while I look human to you, I so much farther from one than you can imagine. I have needs—no, instincts—that have been making themselves known to me since I Bound us together. When I told you that faery Bondings were different from human ones in every way, I meant it. Your human bonding rituals—marriage, if you want—are only bound by paper and a pledge to your deity; such things are easily breakable. Faery Bondings, however, are bound by magic and by blood: therefore, unbreakable. What I've done to us can never be reversed, and the sooner you realize that, the better off we will both be.

"As a faery male, I have certain amount of power given to our race as a means of protecting my kin and my home. With that power, come instincts. Instincts that have laid dormant for hundreds of years until the Bonding awoke them. And my every instinct is to provide for you as my mate, to give you complete and undivided affection and comfort. And that I would happily give.

"However, there are certain things that must also be met, things that I don't expect you to understand. The reason you were not able to escape that one day, the reason you saw no resistance from me, was because of the Bonding, and all the laws that apply to it. Normally, this is not a problem, as unlike with humans, faery pairs can only be bond unless both truly desire it—and yes, you desired it; I could not have bonded us otherwise" he said, in answer to her rising protest, "—the stipulation to our union is that until the Bonding is consummated, we are only allowed so far from each other. The magic stopped you from leaving by restricting your air and making us go into a…cardiac arrest, I believe you call it… until one of us closes that distance."

Sarah stared at him, taken aback by his words. There was so much to process, but she only registered the last part. _They couldn't leave each other, not until…_she gulped, unable to finish the sentence but seeing a graphic picture in her mind. She shivered, but couldn't tell if it was from disgust or hope.

"Sarah," he said, his tone went softer, bringing Sarah's attention back to him, "I will not force anything on you. You have my word on that. I only want for us to try this properly, to make this situation work. To court you, as it were."

She found her voice again, "Not force anything? Jareth, you kidnapped me, tortured me, and bound us in a way that can't be unbroken: I don't know about you, but in my world that's the exact definition of force. And how exactly am I suppose to get over that? I'm _married_, Jareth, married to a pompous, insufferable bastard who can't stand to be told no."

She felt his grip on her tighten.

"You will not speak to me that way. I am your lord and mate and you will give me respect."

"You have to earn my respect, Jareth. I'm sorry that it's something you don't agree with, what with you never learning what the word 'no' means. I don't give respect that easily, especially someone who stole away my freedom because he's a sore loser and lost a game _he _started."

His nails started digging into her skin to the point where it hurt, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of saying so. "I've told you," he growled. "I wouldn't have been able to marry us if you were not truly willing. Even if I'd put you on the brink of death and gave you a choice between Bonding with me or dying, I still wouldn't have been able to Bond us if you did not honestly want."

"So, what? Are you saying that I _wanted _to marry you?"

"I'm saying that you were not opposed to the idea of becoming my…wife." He said the word as if it were foreign to him.

She wanted to object, to deny him, but somehow she couldn't. And that only made her more pissed off. "You took me away from my family…" she said, finally getting to one of the biggest, if not _the_ biggest, issues.

Jareth waved his hand impatiently. "They'll be alright. They simply believe you are with someone else. I can show you how to access them through dreams."

"What do you mean they believe I'm with someone else?"

"Your mother believes you are home with your father, and your father believes you chose to stay with your mother."

"But wouldn't they wonder why they never see me? Why they never contact me?" She was so indignant she couldn't get her words out fast enough.

"They will, _through your dreams_. I will teach you to communicate with them and that will satisfy them enough. To them, it will be as good as any form of communication. And you will have contact, too; you will be able to talk to them as if you were there."

"But I won't _be _there. What about events I will miss when they are awake? Toby's so young, and he has a life I'm not going to be there to share with him. My mother, with her harebrained and dramatic ways and my father, also so warm and supportive of everything I did. I'll never get to see them again."

"I'll help as much as I can, but you can no longer go Aboveground. It is dangerous for an Undergrounder to stay Aboveground for any a long length of time. I am a powerful faery, the King of the Goblins and all that entails with that. I can go Aboveground for short periods of time, but not you, a young faery who hasn't even tapped into her powers as Goblin Queen."

Sarah didn't respond for a few moments. Her eyes were cast down and thoughtful, and finally, after what seemed like forever to the both of them, she looked up. "Can you let go of me? For heaven's sake, I'm not gonna run away."

"You've done so before, and the last time, you stabbed me with a pair of mending shears." He said, but let her go anyway. Sarah smiled softly, feeling that if she didn't laugh, she'd cry. She moved to the chair to sit down and think. She sensed Jareth stand beside her, but her mind was on other things. She could see her family again, in a way, and tell them goodbye. Somehow, no matter how much she wanted to fight, she felt the inevitability of her situation come crashing down on her.

But why do I have to sit here and take it? She asked herself. Just because Jareth one upped her, did that mean she would have to bow down to him like an obedient dog? Carefully keeping her face in the same defeated look, Sarah raged inside, a newfound power that trumped any anger and determination she'd ever felt. She would play Jareth's game, let him think she was going to be the submissive wife and teach her the ways of the Goblin Kingdom (maybe even train her to use her new 'powers', she thought gleefully) then when he least expects it, hit him back with everything she had. She knew that she couldn't escape him, not until she found a way to reverse the affects of the voodoo ritual he called a bonding, but Jareth needed to know who he was screwing with. He's thought that because he's a king, and that he had power, he was able to take all and command all? Well, she'd be damned before she took this lying down!

Shaking her head of her thoughts so that she could talk in an even tone, she turned to Jareth, "Jareth, can you do something for me?"

"If it is within my power, then yes, anything."

"I want something to watch over them with. I don't care what, just something that I can use to watch their lives and be there as much as I can. I know you can do that."

Jareth smirked and nodded, "When you are trained, you will be able to do that, too, but for now…" he waved his hand and a few feet away from them materialized what Sarah could only describe as a birdbath, with its stone pillar and wide stone basin. She stood up and walked over to it, and saw opaque water swirling in it.

"Touch it, Sarah. Touch the water, and think of what or who you want to see. It will show you anything you want."

Sarah nodded, and cautiously dabbed at the water with the tip of her forefinger. The water was cool and at her touch, started glowing. It spun faster and faster around the edges of the basin, and the opaque water gave way to watery image of a golden-haired little boy playing happily on a swing surrounded by many other children. Toby was at preschool.

She felt a tear roll down her cheek and was surprised when Jareth caught it. She had been unaware that he had moved beside her.

"Do not cry, Sarah. You knew, even before I brought you back here, that you didn't belong in the Aboveground. The only thing really tying you there is the boy." He said.

"And what of my mother and father? My friends?" she didn't say this angrily; as of now, even though she plotted her revenge of sorts against Jareth, she simply felt exhausted, as if she could sleep a hundred years and still not get enough.

"Minor inconveniences. You love them; I didn't say you didn't. But if it weren't for little Toby, whom you love the most of all of them, then it wouldn't be nearly so difficult for you to leave that world behind."

She realized this was true. Over the last few days secluded in her room, there were only two people that she'd really struggled over. One was Jareth, and the other Toby. She did think of Robert and Linda, of even Irene and Paolo, but it was Toby she fretted over most. Little Toby, who had grown so attached to her and she likewise to him. She couldn't bear to be separated from him.

A thought came to her mind, unbidden, unwanted, and she tried to push away, ashamed. Was she really willing to selfishly sacrifice Toby's happiness for her own? She cringed at the thought. Nevertheless, the thought wouldn't go away and continued to send a thrill in her stomach. She voiced her opinions to Jareth, "Jareth…? Say that, in a few years, when Toby is old enough—and if he was willing—could you, say, bring him to the Underground?"

Jareth just stared at her, which made her feel even more selfish and horrible. "Nevermind, I was just wondering—it was stupid, really…"

To her surprise, Jareth smiled. Not a cloying, smug smirk, but a genuine one that Sarah had never seen before and made her insides warm, "Sarah, are you suggesting that you would want to bring Toby to this world—make him an Undergrounder—just like I did you?"

"No!" she admonished hastily. "I didn't mean unwillingly! I mean, when he was older, and I gave him a choice and he said yes, could we?"

"But wouldn't that be the same? Toby would do anything if you were the one asking. That's all you would have to do and he would come running, wouldn't he?"

Sarah looked away, ashamed and disgusted with herself.

"Sarah, do not fret. The decision won't have to be made for several years. But, if he does consent, of course I can bring him here. I brought you here, didn't I? Twice. However, we will have to wait until he was much older, wouldn't we? If I brought him down now, then he would just turn into a goblin."

"He would?" she asked.

"Yes. The Underground itself is hardly anything but a world of magic, a place of imagination. And human children, why, they have such a wild imagination with such a vulnerable body, that it makes them an easy source for the magic to feed on. However, this would tear the child's body apart, and thereby rob the magic of its energy source. So, the magic will turn it into something of the Underground that could hold up to its brutal extraction of energy. As this is the Goblin Kingdom, the magic of this place will simply turn it into a goblin."

"I never thought of it that way. Wow. So do you have many…" she trailed off.

Jareth laughed. "A whole room of them. When you were running the Labyrinth, every single goblin you came upon was once a human child, wished away by someone to my very capable hands. Children turned goblins are much more adept at making mischief than natural ones, who have become docile under my rule."

Sarah was horrified. "So, if I hadn't of rescued Toby when I did, then…"

"Yes, he would have turned into a goblin, but I would have raised him differently. You see—" Jareth stopped, his eyes suddenly alert. Then he relaxed. "A story for another time, then. Right now, I have an important matter that I must see to. You are free to explore, if you wish, though I don't advise you to go about the castle alone. You will get lost. I will return on the morrow. Then we shall take you to meet your governess, who will oversee your lessons."

Sarah looked at him, appalled, "You were serious? I actually have to attend _etiquette lessons?_"

Jareth chuckled at her expression. "I was very serious, Sarah. You are now Queen of the Goblins, and as such must learn the rules of proper nobility."

Sarah sighed, annoyed. _Etiquette lessons,_ she thought with disdain.

She then realized Jareth was looking at her. Not looking at her, exactly, but looking through her. Fixedly. It unnerved her, and she licked her bottom lip nervously. He stilled, then went to lean forward, but caught himself. He looked up into her eyes, then turned to leave.

Startled by his abrupt departure, she blurted out. "Jareth!"

Jareth turned to look at her questioningly, and she turned cherry red, "Um…so, Jareth, about what I said about Toby—"

Jareth sighed. "Yes. If he agrees to it and he is of old enough age, then you may bring him to the Underground. But that will not come for at least another 10 year, so I advise to put it out of your mind for the time being. Actually," His grim countenance suddenly wicked. "I would start to worry about your looming etiquette lessons, _your highness."_

He gave a mocking bow to her and walked out of the room, Sarah's not to quiet grumblings following him out of the room. The smirk never left his face even when he found his way to his study, where a dreaded new doctrine awaited his approval.


	9. New Friends and New Situations

Hey everyone! I'm sorry It's taken so long. I've told some people, but most of you have been left in the dark. I'm SOOOO sorry! I've been holding off on uploading new chapters until I knew for absolute certain where the plot was going, and I have it pretty much nailed, but I haven't gotten it all WRITTEN yet -.-*. So, in light of this, I've decided to add this chapter. Perhaps not very long, but I figure its something. I know its probably not as action packed as the last several chapters, but it was needed. Hope you enjoy!

P.S. I shortened the name of 'Gnarled Hearts Chained and Cruel' as you may well have noticed. I've been meaning to do it for a while, but never remembered to do. I think it sounds better, anyway! ^_^

Disclaimer (and all that fun jazz): I do not own _The Labyrinth_ or any of its original characters. They belong to Jim Henson - rest his soul - and Tristar Pictures. All that are mine are the original plots and original characters.

* * *

Chapter 8

"_Handmaidens_?" Sarah looked at Jareth, her expression shocked. She looked back at the six beautiful women who stood before her in elegant dresses that matched her own blue one. It was early morning the next day, and Sarah was standing with Jareth in one of his many reception rooms, where Jareth had just informed her that the women in front of her were to be her handmaidens.

Said women stood with their heads bowed demurely and their hands folded elegantly in front of them. "Why on _earth_ do I need handmaidens?" Jareth had told her that he was going to introduce her to her governess, but this was a little detail he had conveniently left out.

"Sarah, it is custom for a high ranking noble—especially a queen—to have personal servants to help them with day-to-day activities: bathing and dressing and such things that you might find a need for." Jareth said.

Sarah had read about handmaidens before in her many books: personal servants to the female nobility, used to do everything for you and make you a lazy cow. She did _not_ need that.

"I've gotten along just fine the past eighteen years, thank you very much. I don't want handmaidens." She said. She glared at Jareth, daring him to defy her.

Jareth sighed. Why did he think she would cooperate with him? She was dying to challenge him, over anything and everything. Somehow, he'd gotten the insane notion that she'd submit to him easily. It must've been her eyes: when she laughed, her eyes made it harder to believe that she was as stubborn as a dragoness. Damn her eyes.

"Sarah," he said aloud as patiently as he could. "It is custom to have them. You need them to help you with your daily duties and to keep you company. You are queen now, and a queen needs servants."

Sarah gave him a questioning look. "I didn't think you were the type to follow what was 'proper', Jareth."

Jareth cursed under his breath. He wasn't. He didn't have valets or menservants to assist him in such things—in fact, he found it was rather annoying even as a babe—but Sarah was different. She was a new faery, practically a babe herself, with no knowledge of how to control her powers; that made her vulnerable and weak. She needed the protections these powerful and loyal females could provide for her while she learned to control and harness her new power. Of course, he never dreamed of telling her that—he wasn't a fool. Besides, females needed help and companionship, didn't they? His own mother had had a small army of handmaidens at her disposal even _before_ her marriage to his father and she had only been a small noble.

"Sarah." He said, his tone brooked no argument. It reminded Sarah of an adult confronting a child. "You will take them and let that be the end of it."

Sarah wasn't backing down. She vaguely wondered if it was bravery or stupidity that made her provoke Jareth so, but she decided she didn't care. She wasn't going to make this a bit easy for him.

"Jareth, I don't _want _handmaidens!" she winced at the petulance in her voice. "I can do for myself just as well as I've done for the past eighteen years."

Jareth was not about to travel down the road _that _conversation would've taken them. It wasn't the place or the time. He clasped her elbow and pulled her in towards him. "Sarah." His voice was low, but it wasn't hushed, which gave him an air of authority. "You _will not _fight me on this. Now quit being childish and accept them."

When she didn't say anything, he gripped her elbow tighter, "Say you accept them."

"I…oh, alright, I accept them." Jareth let go of her and Sarah glared at him sulkily, _Jareth: 1, Sarah: 0. _

Jareth turned from her, his aggravating near-perpetual grin back on his face, more satisfied somehow because he had won that battle. "Ladies, introduce yourself to your new mistress."

At his words, every woman—were they even _women_ when they weren't _hu_man?—bowed to her. "Good day, your Highness," they all said simultaneously, which disturbed Sarah greatly, "We hope that you approve of us."

Sarah gave Jareth a 'freaked out' look and said uncertainly, "It's…er, very nice to meet you, ladies."

Jareth then snapped his fingers. The ladies parted, and then from behind them, a new lady appeared. Sarah's eyes widened and she heard herself give a small gasp. This woman was absolute gorgeous. She was tall and slender, with long limbs and graceful body that put every model she'd ever seen to shame. Her long brown hair somehow glimmered with a golden glow and shaped her heart-shaped face beautifully, amplifying her amber-gold eyes. Sarah felt her heart drop and her confidence take a serious beating as soon as she saw her.

The woman bowed to her. "Good day, milady. I am Nameena, and I am to be your new tutor." Her tone was dry, and she gave Jareth a look so as to make Sarah wonder if she'd missed something.

"It is nice to meet you, as well…er…" Sarah trailed off, unsure of what to call her. What were the formalities of the Underground?

Nameena watched her expressionlessly, making Sarah feel rather silly. However, she knew the problem as well and took mercy on her. "You may simply call me Nameena."

"Nameena." Sarah tried out the new name. "It is very nice to meet you.

"Pleasure." She bowed, and glancing at Jareth, said. "Very well, now, if your Majesties will excuse me, I must prepare for the lessons for tomorrow. Be at the Observation Tower by dawn, milady." With that, she swept out the room.

Now Sarah definitely felt as if she'd missed something. She gave Jareth a questioning look. He answered with his innocent one, as if he hadn't the faintest idea what was wrong with her—but Sarah knew better.

"Jareth, what was wrong with—"

"I'm sorry Sarah, but I must leave you again. A king is a king, now matter if he newly Bonded or not." He kissed her hand and, despite herself, Sarah blushed. His voice suddenly took on a dramatic tone. "But do not fret, my love, you shall have all these lovely ladies to distract you from the pain of our separation. Until later"—He bowed low—"I have some very special planned for us." With that, he walked out the room. Now she definitely knew she was missing something. She made a mental note to make full interrogation later. Sneaking, slippery cad…

She turned to the other females in the room. She supposed it would do some good to make friends here and to make friends with her (she struggled with the word) _handmaidens_ would be a smart move. They would be loyal to her and could help her with her plot against Jareth.

She was vaguely surprised with herself at the somewhat ruthless tactical thought as she started, "So, er…hello. Um, Shall we start off by telling each other our names? I'm Sarah."

The females before her gave each other a hesitant look before the brunette on the far left end started. "I am Rionach, milady." She bowed.

"Pleased to meet you, Rionach." Sarah said politely.

The red-haired girl beside her bowed as well, "I am Siobhan."

And so it went on down the line, left to right.

"Alesia." "Keelie." Said the two angel-haired blondes.

"Chimera." Said the last, whose hair was brown, too, but lighter, almost a dirty blonde.

They were all very beautiful, and very regal.

Sarah acknowledged every one of them with a smile and a nod of the head. She noticed the females named Alesia and Keelie were startlingly similar to each other. Sisters, perhaps.

The handmaidens smiled at Sarah shyly, apprehensively, like they were afraid of reprimand if they were to do anything without her approval. She took care to keep herself from laughing at their adorable childlike shyness lest she offend them, or worse, scare them. It occurred to her that they were just as intimidated by this situation as she was and it gave her a newfound confidence to take control of the situation and appease their fears. She sat down on the sofa behind her and gestured towards the other chairs the surrounded the room, "Take a seat, please."

They all did so, though not quite the way Sarah wanted them to. They sat stiffly in their various chairs and couches, stock-still like machines that couldn't do anything without the will of the master. It was starting to scare her.

"Okay…" She started, "So…tell me about your selves."

They looked at each other. "What would like us to say, milady?" Rionach asked.

"Oh, I don't know." Sarah said and thought. What did she want to know? What could she say that would shed these girls of their stony faces?

She glanced at Alesia and Keelie, who sat with each other on the couch opposite her. They pressed against each other, shoulder to shoulder and it made Sarah wonder again on the relationship between them. "Are you two siblings?" she addressed them.

They startled, and looked at each other, "Twins, milady." Alesia said, looking down, "I am eldest, by two minutes."

Sarah took in their appearance at the new information. Indeed, their almost white blonde hair, full pouty lips, gently sloped noses, and sun kissed skin were nearly identical, yet you could tell the difference between them even despite their similarities. Keelie gave off a more childlike feel, innocent and energetic despite her nervousness. Sarah could tell that when she broke their shells, Keelie would be quite the entertainment.

She turned her attention to the others. They quickly bent their heads, but Sarah could tell they were watching her. She knew enough about history back home to know about the basics of hierarchy, but this was maddening. She was a woman of the times, where there was no such thing as handmaidens and rule by fear. _No_, she thought derisively, _at home it was rule by greed_.

"Alright." She said. She might as well lay it down on the table now. "I understand you're scared of me. I know I intimidate you. Hell, I would be, too, if I served someone who on a whim could decide my life for me. But I'm going to try to assure you that you don't need to fear me. I don't want servants, I want friends, and friends are not supposed to be afraid to speak their minds." She said.

All the females were silent, although their expression ranged from confusion to relief and (to Sarah's surprise) anger.

"So you say you wish to be our friend?" asked the burgundy-haired one—Siobhan, Sarah's memory recalled. It was her expression that was by far the most intense, her voices tight and shockingly ice-blue eyes hard.

Unsure of where this sudden animosity was heading, Sarah nodded. "Yes."

She sneered, "The one whom stole our livelihood and our future wants to be our _friend_. How quaint!"

Several gasps went up around the room. "Siobhan!" Rionach said, her eyes wide and frightened.

"No, Rionach, I'm tired of these games! I'm tired of being used as pawns in these noble's silly plots and intrigues that always fall on our heads! We've already lost—"

"Enough, Siobhan!"

"No, no, let her speak, Rionach." Sarah said. "I want you all to believe that I want to be your friend, and I can't very well be your friend if I don't let you speak. Go ahead, Siobhan. You can tell me anything. What's wrong?"

Siobhan hesitated, obviously not expecting such a calm, encouraging response, then steeled herself to plow on. "What's wrong? What's wrong is I cannot stand hypocrisy. We were stolen from our homes, forced into a life of servitude, and are expected to act in such ways that we've never known. Then we are bounced around like we are nothing but dogs for royalty and nobility to amuse them selves with. Then here you sit, with your innocent, doll face, and tell us that you wish to be our friend? Excuse me, _your highness_, if I'm none too thrilled of your offering me a claim of friendship that will only last so long as it benefits you!"

Siobhan held Sarah's gaze, ready to face her punishment head on. Maybe if she was lucky, she would be given a swift death. Death was better than this endless game of cat and mouse that was nobility amusement. But her new mistress did not shout, appalled, at her impudence, or call for someone to take her away. She did not give her a look of cold disdain or even amusement. Her eyes were wide, almost doe-like, and concern was the only emotion Siobhan could discern from them.

A million and one questions raced through Sarah's mind as she registered Siobhan's words. What did she mean? How did this happen? She'd thought that these women had _wanted_ to be handmaidens to royalty. Stolen?

"Why?" was her simple answer. It was the only way she could sum up her conflicting thoughts.

No one would answer her. "What happened? You can tell me." She said.

The females before her all starting shifting uncomfortably. They looked to Rionach (whom Sarah surmised to be the leader of their little group) who said, "You see, milady. There is a spell upon us. We are not able to tell you the details of our confinement. We can tell you of it, but any details will make our throats close shut."

Sarah looked at them in horror. "We need to do something about this! Who in the hell would ever do such a thing? We must tell Jareth." Jareth may not be her most favorite person in the world, but like it or not, he needed to know.

"No, your highness!" Rionach said, fear in her eyes. "You mustn't speak to your lord of this."

"Why not?" Sarah asked. "Is he involved in this? Does Jareth know?" So help him if he did…

"No, no, milady, of course not! It is just, if they found out that someone were to try to involve the Goblin King in this affair, it would be very dangerous for us all."

Sarah dropped back into her chair, watching all of the girls who had suddenly taken a keen interest in the markings of the stone floors. She couldn't stand by and do _nothing_, not while they were obviously suffering. But there had been nothing but pure terror in Rionach's eyes when she asked Sarah not to take her case to Jareth.

"What if I were to set you free?" she asked. Jareth would be furious, but Sarah knew what it was like to be bound by something you didn't have any control over and couldn't break, and she would be damned before she would sit idly by and watch someone suffer while she could do something to change it. And anyway, it gave her a comforting feel of satisfaction to know that she could piss him off.

With a collective gasp, six pairs of eyes flew up to hers, surprised. What had she just said? "W-what?" Chimera asked, the first she'd spoken since giving her name.

"Can't I do that? I mean, technically you _are _my handmaidens, right? Could I just, um, dismiss you and you are free to go?" Sarah hadn't the faintest idea how it worked but she figured, if you could be given an animal in a cage, you could open the cage and let it go, right?

"Yes…" Rionach said slowly. Her dark eyes were uncertain, and she watched Sarah intently, almost as if she had expected her to retract her offer. "You could very easily, milady. We were bound to you the moment you accepted us. We can serve no other but you until you dismiss us and sever the bond between us. However, your highness, if I may, could we discuss it amongst ourselves first?"

Sarah hadn't the faintest idea why anyone would need to discuss freedom versus slavery, but she consented. "I'll leave you alone to talk about it. Take as long as you like. When you're finished…um, the goblins can take you to my room and you can give me your decision there."

She gave them all a polite nod and an almost awkward smile and called for a servant, who arrived to take her to her room. The last thing she needed was to get lost in this monstrosity of a castle. When she arrived in her room and the door closed, she plopped onto her plush couch in a decidedly unladylike fashion, like she were at home getting ready to watch TV and chat with her friend Caroline on the 'phone about whatever it was that they were watching. She felt a slight pang of regret about her old friend Caroline and another stab of annoyance at Jareth for taking yet _another _thing from her, but the thought left as quickly as it came and was replaced by far more recent events. How did she get so mixed up in all of this? How did it all become so complicated? Not two or three weeks ago she was a normal teenage girl with normal teenage problems, and now she was a married woman who was steadily become less woman and more faery, and not just her own marital problems but problems of others, which may or may not include kidnapping and trafficking and politics.

And it was all Jareth's fault.

She knew it wasn't really, not all of it at least, but it felt nice just to pin the problems on something, just for a while, so she could think it all through. Without realizing it, Sarah started to fall asleep on the comfortable couch, and her last thoughts were of all the deliciously mischievous possibilities she could use to get back at Jareth. She smiled as she finally fell into dream land.


	10. Decisions and Understandings

Hallo, people ^_^ Thanks for the amazing support you all have shown. Reviews and favorites and stuff like that are excellent boosters. I'm out of school now for the summer, so I can now officially work on pumping out some chapters for you!

Disclaimer: I know, I know, I don't own this movie - darn it -.-'...All rights belong to Jim Henson and Company

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Chapter 9

Sarah did not sleep long. Even under the warm blanket of drowsiness, she could feel a disturbance that she sorely wished to shoo away. She turned and buried her head into the plush pillows and into comforting darkness, yet the feeling of being watched would not go away.

"Milady?" a tentative female voice reached her ears. She recognized it, but she did not want it there all the same. She groaned into her pillow.

"Lady Sarah?" Rionach's voice prodded again. Sarah turned her head towards the sound and winced immediately. The light was far too bright.

"Huh?" she answered stupidly, still slow with sleep.

"Um, milady…we are ready with our answer." She said quietly.

"Oh." Rubbing her eyes, Sarah sat up and looked at the other girls. They stood before her with their hands crossed in front of them and looking very subservient. Unable to discern any emotions from them that would tell her one answer or the other, Sarah smoothed out her slightly unruly hair and looked at Rionach, who for once looked Sarah in the eye without hesitation.

"We have decided…to stay with you as your handmaidens."

Sarah blinked in surprise. "But…why?"

Rionach finally looked away. "It has been such a long time since any of us have seen our home," she said softly. "We'd have no place there anymore. You have shown us more kindness in two hours than we have seen in well over a century. We are better off with you, for now."

"Well, if you're sure…all you have to do is tell me if you change your mind." Sarah said, blushing, uncomfortable with the compliment, yet it was one word that caught her and replayed itself over and over in her mind. _Century…_

"Just how old are you?"

"I've just had my third centennial century last year. The others are only slightly less than I. Chimera has not celebrated her second centennial yet and she is the youngest of us."

Centennial…centennial…Sarah fought to remember what that meant as it had conveniently slipped her mind. Let's see, century meant 100 years so…

Sarah collapsed, her eyes wide and expression shocked.

"Milady?" Rionach said, surprised and worried, as she lurched forward to catch Sarah. She gently guided her to the couch, but Sarah barely took notice. 3 centennials. _300 years?_

"300 years?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, milady. Almost 301, really, but we Immortals only celebrate our every hundredth year with the exception of our Maturity Age."

Sarah was not about to touch subject on _that._ Not yet. There was too much to take in as it was. 300 years…she still couldn't quite wrap her head around it. It made her feel incredibly small, young, and well, _naïve. _

"Um, milady?" It was Keelie who spoke, her voice curious but timid.

"Sarah, please. I want you all to be my friends, and friends don't call each other 'milady' or 'your highness' or anything like that. Just Sarah." Sarah said.

"Sarah…" Keelie tried out the name, as if she were unused to it. Of course she was unused to it, Sarah thought; Her name, although quite common in her world, didn't seem like it would be so in this one. "It was rumored that you are of another world from our own. Is this true?"

This struck Sarah as odd. There were rumors about her? "Er, yes? Yes, I am."

At this, every female in the room's attention was drawn to Sarah, as if there was going to something new they had not seen now that they knew she was not of their world. Keelie sat beside her on the couch and grasped her hand, her eyes alight.

"Keelie!" Rionach scolded. Keelie flinched and looked at Rionach guiltily. However, she did not release her grip on Sarah's hand.

"Don't worry, Rionach. Keelie is fine. If you have questions, feel free to ask. I'll answer all of them as best I can." Sarah said. She felt like she was reiterating her words to a brick wall. Rionach—all of them, in fact—acted as if she were going to have a sudden change of heart and send them all to their deaths at any moment. As a matter of fact, she couldn't be happier. They were interested in her, which meant she was closer to having more friends in this bizarre and foreign place, the first besides Knut since coming back to the Goblin City. She felt a brief pang of regret and longing as she thought of her old friends; she sorely wished to have them back again.

Sarah noticed that all the women had gathered around her: Rionach on her other side, Alesia squeezing in beside Keelie on the corner of the couch, Chimera—the docile one who had yet to truly speak to Sarah—on the floor with her elbows resting on Keelie's legs. Even Siobhan, who stood away stoically, had her eyes fixed on Sarah curiously. Smiling, Sarah had a sudden thought of children snuggling into their parents to prepare for a fascinating bed-time story.

"Alright." She said. "Ask your worst."

They all looked at each other before Keelie started. "What is your world called?

Easy question. "Earth, I guess, but Jareth seems to like to call it the Aboveground."

"Kind of a simple name. The Aboveground is to go with the Underground." Keelie commented.

"What kinds of creatures live there?" Alesia asked.

"All kinds. Birds, fish, mammals, humans, snakes, everything."

"So it's like the Underground?" said Keelie.

"I guess so, but there aren't things like goblins or faeries or intelligent vegetation. Not that I know of, anyway." Sarah said. She glanced at Siobhan, Chimera and Rionach who, though they all watched her interest, had yet to ask her a single question.

"Really?" Keelie said, her eyes wide. "Why not?"

Sarah thought about it. Had there ever been imaginary creatures like goblins, dragons, and magic? If so, when and why did they disappear?

"I don't really know." Sarah said slowly. "We never had any actual knowledge of any such creatures existing. Until three years ago, faeries, goblins, and talking animals were all just stories to me, things that I could never really think were real. If they ever had existed in the Aboveground, it was either before humans came along or they just faded out of human memory as nothing more than myths and stories."

Keelie jumped like she remembered something important. She giggled and moved closer to Sarah like she was ready to hear a juicy bit of gossip. "Oh, Sarah, you must tell me the story! The whole Underground was simply _buzzing_ about you—the Runner who had rejected the Goblin King!"

Sarah was startled. "What?"

Rionach reached over to put her hand on Keelie's mouth, but Keelie could not be quelled; she seemed ready to burst with excitement. "What she means is," Rionach said, "is that many people heard about your Run in the Labyrinth. The Goblin King's games in the Labyrinth were always a popular topic to many. It was even a topic of gambling to see how far a Runner would go before they gave up and if they would reach the end. Yours was particularly talked of. The Goblin King always offered a gift to the rare Runner that made their way to the Castle beyond the Goblin City—a sort of last test/bribe. The gift was always the Runners deepest desire—and more often than not, they took it. But you, milady, you were the only one who was offered not only your deepest desire—you were offered his love.

"It had been a surprise to all in the Underground when we'd heard that he, the infamous _Goblin King_, had offered his love—his love!—to a mere mortal, and she that had rejected him."

Keelie yanked Rionach's hand away from her mouth, determined to speak her part, "And what's more was the state of the Goblin King afterward."

"Afterward?" Sarah asked. She had thought that his offer was a ploy, a way to get her give up Toby. But according to them, Jareth had only ever offered her. What did that mean?

"Keelie!" Alesia said, giving her twin a reproachful look.

"What?" Keelie replied defensively. "She has a right to know, doesn't she?"

"It's not right to spread rumors." Alesia said.

"'Tis no rumor," Keelie argued, "'Tis truth!"

"Know what?" Sarah said. They couldn't talk in code like that, then _not _tell her!

Keelie turned from Alesia pointedly. "About what happened to the Goblin King after you left."

Sarah went very still, "What happened?"

Keelie's eyes were bright. "Oh, it was _awful_. King Jareth made a recluse of himself. He wasn't seen by even his closest advisors for days, even weeks at a time, and even then he only saw them only to perform his duties. It was said he didn't even look like himself. He looked _old_, something that never happens to a faery— unless they are heartbroken, I suppose. And—"

"Keelie!" Rionach said when she saw the look of horror and bewilderment on Sarah's face.

Sarah's stomach twisted itself so that she was seriously worried she was going to be sick. Did she start that? She remembered the curse with a shudder and remembered (with a clench in her heart) the feelings that had come with it. There had been pain, hatred, possessiveness, desire, anger. But now, in lieu of Keelie and Rionach's words, she remembered the more raw, wretched ones hidden behind them. Heartache. Dejection. Loss. Resignation. A feeling of desertion. She remembered a room. A grand room, admittedly, but somehow dark and desolate. She hadn't realized until now that that was what she'd been seeing. Everything had been so jumbled and complicated that she could understand what she'd been seeing beyond the emotions. Could she really have had such a dramatic effect on him?

The door opened and Sarah nearly jumped out of her skin. There, speak of the devil, was the Goblin King himself, smirking at her. "Ah, here you are. I was getting worried. We may not be able to be very far apart right now, but that doesn't mean you couldn't be wreaking havoc somewhere on some poor creature. I do feel for your handmaidens, though. They are going to have their work cut out for them."

Sarah simply stared at him, not even registering his barb from the thoughts swirling around in her head. Looking at him, all mirth and arrogance, she was hard-pressed to see the pained man from her—his—memory.

Jareth noticed that she didn't bother to retort to his comment and went to give another smart remark when he realized that she was watching him with an expression that looked…enlightened, with a touch of either concern or understanding. It unnerved him.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Sarah blinked, and the look was gone. "For what?" she asked stupidly.

Jareth sighed with mock exasperation, "Honestly, Sarah, does only air reside in your head? The gardens?"

"Oh!" she said and jumped to her feet. She blushed when she realized how eager this made her look and shifted uncomfortably, "Um…"

Jareth made a sweeping gesture to her. "Shall we?"

Sarah looked at her handmaidens in distress, but instead of helping (although she seriously doubted there was much they could do anyway) they stood up and moved out of her way. Keelie even gave her a silly, girlish grin that Sarah supposed was to be encouraging. Instead, it only served to stir up her nerves.

She walked towards him, her legs feeling like lead weights and her stomach doing funny little flips. He grasped her hand and stared into her eyes, searching, probing. Sarah found she couldn't look away. Her mouth went dry and she bit the inside of her lips nervously.

"I…uh…should we be going?" she asked.

"We should." He said softly. Instead of turning to the door, instead of looking away from her, he grabbed her around her waist and pulled her close. Sarah felt her breath hitch and Jareth smirked.

Again with the loud crack, Sarah and Jareth disappeared, leaving the handmaidens to giggle at their mistress' fortune.

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Hope you enjoyed it! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE don't forget to send me reviews - I love those things! And they encourage me to keep going when I feel lazy ...Until next time!


	11. Magic and Mysteries

I am so sorry for the delay. There really is no excuse other than that it is my senior year and I've been busy planning college and such. I haven't had the time to let my inspiration flow. I hope you enjoy this chapter! I think it explains alot.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Labyrinth or any of its original characters. They belong to Jim Henson and company

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Chapter 10

It had been later than Sarah realized, because the first thing she saw after her room disappeared with the handmaidens was the bright warmth of late afternoon. But that thought slipped away from her when she took in the garden.

Oh, she wished she could describe it poetically like Wordsworth or Emerson. Her own bland thoughts would hardly do it justice.

They were standing on the hillside overlooking a large pond, blue and sparkling in the noon sun, surrounded by bushes of every size and shape and color, from whites to pinks to fuchsia to purples to varying shades of green with almost no grass to be seen, although the little there was was such a vibrant green that Sarah could almost call it blue. Trees that she'd never seen before surrounded the pond, oddly shaped and twisted and produced purple, pink, and turquoise flowers that could engulf her whole hand and then some on the ends of their branches were combined with common maples and weeping willows to make for one of the most peaceful scenes she'd ever seen.

"Oh…" her eyes softened as she took in the scene before her. She didn't realize that Jareth's arms were around her until he let go and she felt bereft of the warmth.

"How do you like it?" he said.

"It's beautiful." She said earnestly.

His mouth twitched before pulling out a smirk. "Thank you. My father had it designed for my mother as commemoration of my birth."

"Oh." Suddenly Sarah sensed that this was a topic she ought not to approach.

"Shall we tour more of the gardens?" Jareth extended his arm to her.

Sarah, wary of this well-mannered gesture, shook her head. "No, thank you. I can walk fine by myself."

Jareth gave her a questioning look, but lowered his arm and didn't press the matter. He led her through a rather large and rather dense willow tree and she cringed away from him out of sheer force of habit.

"Sarah, what's wrong?" he turned to look at her through the dangling reeds.

She said nothing, but looked away nervously.

"What? Do you think I'm going to attack you? Bludgeon you and do some unspeakable atrocity to you?" he asked.

"It wouldn't be the first time." She said, keeping her eyes from him.

Jareth looked impatient, "Sarah, you needn't worry about that. If I wanted to attack you now, I wouldn't have to wait for the cover of trees to do it. There would be no one around to hear you, anyway." Those words didn't help matters; in fact, Sarah took another tiny step back. Jareth tried to switched tactics. "Not that I would. You are my mate now, Sarah. I could never hurt you if I wanted to. I am here to court you, nothing more. I promise."

"If what you say is true, then how come I don't believe you?" she asked, finally looking up.

He waved the comment away, "Believe what you will. There's nothing I can say or do to make you see the truth. All I can do is prove to you that I mean you no harm."

She snorted, "Forgive me if I have a hard time trusting you."

"You are forgiven" he said lightly. "Now come. We have a walk to the next garden.

Sarah tried to follow behind him, but Jareth pulled her up beside him by her arm. "Servants walk behind their masters," he said. "Mates walk besides their mates as equal."

Sarah again said nothing, and continued to say nothing while she and Jareth stepped across the stepping stones, which turned out to be tree trunks embedded into the ground, large enough for her and Jareth to walk on together comfortably. Only when they came to the wall of trees did Sarah attempt a conversation.

"What kind of tree is that?" she asked, pointing at the gnarled looking trees with the pretty, large flowers.

"I haven't the faintest idea." He said. "Most of this garden was of my father's design. He took many things from the Underground, but even more from the Aboveground. I believe that this particular plant disappeared from your world some several millennia ago."

"Oh…"Sarah said, awed. She looked at the tree again with a new respect. This enchanting tree was gone from her world forever, and yet here she stood, not but feet away from it.

Jareth noticed how she stared at the tree. Her expression was soft, and the corners of her mouth turned slightly in a smile. He knew enough of Underground females to know that they had a certain softness for pretty things like flowers. Could it be that his Sarah did, too?

Sarah's eyes widened as the flowers on the trees seemed to dissolve before her eyes. She turned to Jareth to ask him about it, when she saw that he was holding a bouquet of pinks, purples, and turquoises in his hand. He held out the offering to her and a mellow sweet scent hit her nose.

"Don't you want them?" he asked when she didn't take them.

"Can I?" Sarah asked.

"Of course you can." He said, and shifted the entire bouquet into her arms. The flowers engulfed both her forearms and reminded her vaguely of her mother's rather large and lengthy wedding bouquet of white roses that nearly covered her entire front. That connection worried her.

"Uh…thank you." She said awkwardly. She never in her life thought she would be thanking Jareth the Goblin King.

Jareth nodded. "Come." He walked into the trees with Sarah by his side.

The forest they entered into was sparse. It wasn't as if there weren't any trees—no, there were plenty of those—but they were relatively small and young and the only thing that littered the ground were dead leaves. No shrubs, no weeds, no grass. The direct sunlight was smothered under a somber layer of cloud. It felt and looked as if they had entered into another world—a dream world, where the scenes change as fast as a thought.

"Where are we?" She asked, shifting the flowers from one arm to the other.

"We are in a between. These gardens are nothing but plants grown brought in from other worlds to one of unorthodox design. A little magical bubble, if you will. One that resides out of space and time. Only my family knows how to get here and how to manage this place. Every time we add a new part of the gardens, there is a between added to keep them separated. Like a barrier to keep the gardens from mixing together and ruining each other."

That wasn't quite the answer Sarah had in mind. "You really had to go there, didn't you? I ask a question and you had to give me an answer that would just overwhelm my ability to understand and in the end give me a huge headache."

"Don't ask a question if you aren't ready for the answer." Jareth replied. "Sarah, by now you should know that there is always going to be something you come across that doesn't make sense."

Sarah went quiet. He had a point.

As they meandered on, Sarah thought. She thought about Jareth and tried to make sense of her complicated emotions.

Once (and it had seemed a lifetime ago now) she had had herself convinced that she'd been in love with Jareth. However, after all that has happened, she felt—what? She still felt something for him. Before, as recently as a few weeks ago, she had called it love. But now? Certainly, she didn't trust him, and resented him for stealing her away from her family and torturing her. But did she hate him?

"Sarah, do you want me to send the flowers to your room so that you don't have to carry them." Jareth asked suddenly.

Caught up in her thoughts, Sarah merely nodded. Just like that, the flowers were gone and her hands dropped to her sides. Still, Sarah continued on thinking.

She wanted to say 'yes', she truly did. The man (or demon or faery or whatever hellish magical creature he was) was insufferable. He acted like a spoil child given the keys to a candy store. Everything was his for the taking and he threw a fit if it was denied him.

Wasn't that what he did? When she told him "no", he went away and sulked in his castle, refusing to see anyone like a pouting baby.

No, she thought. That wasn't strictly true. She remembered his feelings and the memories of the time after she left. It wasn't petulance he'd felt—okay, maybe there was a little—but it was mostly depression. She'd rejected his love, something that had never happened to him before. It was obvious she wasn't getting the whole picture, that Jareth could pick and choose what he wanted to share with her as far as what he'd felt and seen, and she couldn't see past the feelings of depression to decide whether or not he truly cared for her, or if he just fancied himself a challenge that went wrong. Hell, as she'd considered before, the memories themselves could even be a rouse to punish her and make her feel guilty. She didn't want to believe that, but she had to consider all the possibilities.

The thoughts and ideas hurt, but it begged the question again: did she hate him?

The answer was…

"…no?"

Jareth looked at Sarah, "What?"

Sarah didn't meet his eyes, "Nothing. Just thinking aloud."

"Sarah, I've never been a patient king. I enjoy silence even less than I enjoy waiting, so if you please, I'd be much obliged if you spoke."

"Um…what about?" she asked. It was weird, being civil with this man beside her.

Jareth waved his hand, "Anything you wish. Talk to me of life in your world, ask me questions. We have a long journey ahead of us, and it will be even longer in silence."

Sarah though, deciding whether or not to be pointblank and ask the questions she really wanted answered: why me? How could you put me through all of this? Why was I so important to you? What do you plan on doing to me now that you have me stuck here?

But she decided that, even though she really wanted to ask him, she knew she couldn't. Not yet. "What does a goblin king do?"

Jareth chuckled, "Whatever a king is suppose to. All dreadful things: signing treaties, patrol from city to city and listen to the problems of the subjects, play ridiculous games of deception with other nobles. All tedious chores and almost not worth the effort."

"How did you become Goblin King? You're not a goblin." She said.

Jareth's smile turned rueful, "No, I am not that." He went silent, obviously contemplating some memory that Sarah's question brought up. She almost gave up on waiting for an answer when he spoke again.

"In my younger years, I spent less and less time at my home and more in traveling other lands. The Elf and Faery Kingdoms were beautiful countries, but they were painfully dull, so I eventually found my way past the Daemon Kingdom and in to the Goblin, Dwarf, and Were Kingdoms, all of whom were readying themselves for yet another war. Through a bizarre twist of fate—" he gave a small, knowing smile, like he was laughing at his own joke "—I met the Goblin King, a fat little goblin hardly half my size.

"Well, I was eventually invited to stay with Pim, the Goblin King. Oh, how he hated that name. He would call it a weak name and how he despised his dam for not name him something stronger. Goblins base their opinions of one another on the strength and character of their name, you see, and though I doubt you know this, Pim is a female goblin's name. Though I hardly blame his mother for it—she _did_ think he was a female at the time because it is nearly impossible to tell if they are male or female at birth, and I don't think his mother was too bright of a gobliness. She didn't find out until later on, when it was too late to change it." He laughed heartily at the story and even Sarah couldn't help but smile at the story. It sounded like her luck.

"My mother had been told I was going to be a boy, so my room had been completely decked out in blues and sport themed and all my clothes were for a boy. I was even almost named Charles Robert Williams. Thankfully, that didn't happen. When I was born, everyone discovered I was a girl. Though I was named Sarah instead, it was too late for my wardrobe and room. I wore boy's clothes for the first year of my life and kept the room the way it was for another four years after that." She laughed, excited at having a story to relate to.

Jareth was surprised at having her offer up information so willingly, but easily pushed it away and smiled widely at her. "Indeed? Pim would have liked you, I think. Anyway, Pim invited me to stay with him and study with him. I had my doubts—faeries and elves are very keen to discredit Goblins on their intelligence, and I had to admit that I found myself slightly prejudiced against them—but I very soon realized that Goblins are smarter than many give them credit for, though their manners don't help their image.

"I learned a great many things from Pim, usually on terrestrial science, sometimes philosophy, and a little arithmetic. We had a great many misadventures together that I will have to tell you about at a later date. I stayed with him for well over a century, and we grew very close. Then, as all goblins do, he became ill. It was small at first, only a cough and fatigue. Then, before I realized it, he was confined to his deathbed. The night he died, only a few moments before, incidentally, he bequeathed to me—can you guess?"

"The Goblin City?" she said, breathless at the story.

Jareth chuckled, "My dear girl, do you think that is all the Goblin Kingdom has to offer? One relatively small city and a Labyrinth? Hardly. The Goblin Kingdom is incidentally one of the largest provinces in the land and one of four kingdoms to survive the Great Underground War. No, the kingdom spans for hundreds—I daresay thousands—of miles. And the King had just _given _it to me. Me, the relatively young bastard son of a king who had previously had no hope for a chance of succession? I had hardly believed it when he said it, but he had had no children, no heirs, and it came out that he had thought of me as a son, so he spoke the Spell of Succession over us and I became the rightful heir to his kingdom and very shortly after the successor to his reign."

Sarah was overwhelmed by the story, but yet still another question came to her mind, "Bastard son of a king?" she said.

Jareth's mirth sagged a little and Sarah made to retract the question—or at least, the tactlessness in which it was asked. "I'm sorry," she said, "I shouldn't have—"

Jareth held up his hand. "No, Sarah. It's quite alright. It's just a sore subject even after all this time and you took me by surprise.

"I wasn't always a bastard child. Before my bastardization, I was the Crowned Heir to the Faery Kingdom, the only son of High King Oberon and High Queen Erina."

Sarah stopped in her tracks. "Wait, Oberon? As in, _the _Oberon_?_" she asked, her eyes going as wide as saucers.

"I'm sorry? I don't quite follow you, Sarah. You've heard of Oberon?"

"_Cheeuh!_ Shakespeare's _A Midsummer_ _Night's Dream?_ Oberon, Titania, Hermia, Puck, Bottom, Lysander, Helena, just to name a few! Almost everyone has heard of them in the Aboveground!" For her personally, _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ was one of her favorite stories and her favorite Shakespearean story bar none.

Jareth looked puzzled. "Sarah, I don't know what you're talking about. How do you know of Titania and Puck? How can mortals know of them?"

Sarah's eyes were brighter than the clearest emeralds, "So, they _do _exist! This is so cool!"

Jareth raised an eyebrow as they continued walking, "Cool?"

Sarah nooded, "Awesome, sweet—er, very agreeable, good." she said to his absolutely dumbfounded expression. "Wait a second, your _father_?"

He nodded, obviously amused at her flippant reactions, "As I was saying, I was born to Oberon and Erina. My mother was the first Faery queen. She was killed in a bandit raid not long after my Maturity Age. After about few years—during my first centennial, in fact—my father met Queen Titania. At first, their acquaintance towards each other was more an attempt to introduce her to court—in fact, it was an attempt to introduce her to _me._ All thought that I would soon take the throne because father's reaction to my mother's death led many to think his own life would end soon. And so, my Centennial was spent being introduced to many faery and Elvin females who might become my mate and future queen. Titania was one such female.

"But, lo and behold! It was my father who caught her eye and she his. Not too soon after they were met, they were Bonded."

"Oh, how sweet!" Sarah cried.

Jareth smiled a little, "Sweet, indeed. However, there is a clause in the law of the Faery Kingdom. It states that, in short, any children born of the current queen are now considered the Crowned Heirs, and any children to a previous queen is considered an illegitimate child and automatically barred from the line of succession."

Sarah gasped. "What? That's not—!" She started to say, 'that's not fair' but she stopped herself before she finished.

But Jareth caught it. "Not fair?" he chuckled. "You say that so often. I don't want you to think badly of my situation or my father. Though at the time I was quite resentful of it, recently I've come to realize that love is love, no matter the situation." He gave her a significant look, and Sarah looked away.

"I was cut from the succession," he continued, "But that's not to say I lived poorly. Titania was very gracious about me. She was kind and treated me as a son—or, as much a son as someone her own age can be treated. My father allowed me to stay in the castle for many years afterword, and even after I decided to travel on my own to finally give them peace, he paid my way through my various ventures."

Sarah felt for him. She knew somewhat how that felt, to have her father fall in love with another woman and then start a new life, with a new child, feeling all the while like she was the old life looking in. That sense of abandonment and hopelessness had been overwhelming.

"Do you ever see them?" she asked.

"On occasion." He replied. "I am the king of a very prosperous land. They are the monarchs of another equally prosperous one. It is our obligations to fulfill royal diplomacy with other nations."

Sarah gave him a look. "That's not what I meant."

"I know."

His answer, though nonchalant, gave Sarah her answer and she knew she needed to drop the subject.

"So…"Sarah hesitated slightly. Should she bring this subject up yet? She decided she had to, come what may. She _needed _to know. "What happened to my friends?"

Jareth let out a long sigh, like he was expecting this question. He didn't answer for a few moments. It drove Sarah insane with worry. What did he do? She knew Jareth well, even then. He could very well have thrown a tantrum and there wouldn't have been anything her friends could've done about it.

"Please, Sarah, understand. I was upset after you disappeared. And we both know I can be rather…vindictive."

A part of Sarah thought that it was an apt word to describe him. But it was quickly squashed when she thought of all of the terrible things he could've done. Simply killing them—though Sarah blanched at the simple thought—would have been too easy and unsatisfying.

Jareth seemed to realize the effect the words had on Sarah, and continued. "I was angry, and I think justifiably so. My own subjects— who were supposed to be loyal to their king— had rebelled against me. I wanted to punish them, to throw them into the Bog of Eternal Stench and leave them there to rot in their own filth for the rest of their miserable lives. I wanted to give them to the Fireys to rip them apart, one limb at a time. I wanted…" he stopped at the horrified look on Sarah's face. "But I realized that if—" he stopped again. "The fox and the yeti were sent to their homelands almost immediately after you left. I haven't any idea what has become them since then."

"And Hoggle?" she said.

"The dwarf…well, I couldn't really banish him to his homeland. The Dwarf Kingdom was taken in by the Goblin Kingdom during the Great Underground War. He hadn't anywhere else to go."

"So what happened?" she asked, wide-eyed.

"I simply told him to walk. He had one month to be out of Goblin Kingdom, and he could never return. To return would mean death."

Sarah let out her breath and continued to walk. Jareth kept easy pace beside her. He respectfully remained silent. "Well…aside from the whole 'banishment' thing, I guess there were worse things you could've done to them."

Jareth winced, though the action was so small that Sarah didn't catch it. He decided to let that slide until he had to answer it. No use jumping to details and upsetting Sarah. What she doesn't know can't hurt her.

Sarah wasn't naïve enough to ask if he could bring them back. They were still on shaky grounds as it was, and she didn't want to start asking favors too much. Especially if she planned on getting outta here. Still, she did miss her friends

Suddenly, a light distracted Sarah and she momentarily forgot about Hoggle and her friends in the Underground. It was small, but bright and completely illuminated the forest, which Sarah realized had begun to turn the dark, murky blue of twilight. They'd been walking for longer than she thought. Time had flown so fast, and yet Sarah wasn't tired, wasn't hungry or thirsty, even though it had seemed that they'd walked to whole afternoon away in this barren forest.

Jareth seemed to read her mind, as he answered her unspoken question before she could even ask. "I told you earlier that these gardens exist out of space and time. It flows differently here. Actually, it flows to the will of the master. It can be daylight when I want it to be, or it can be night for as long as I want it to be. In reality, we've only walked for an hour—perhaps two. However, it would be better if this next garden were viewed under the cover of night."

The light slowly became larger and more blinding as they approached. Sarah found that she could not look directly at it. It felt like looking at the sun.

"What is that?" she asked.

"It's the gate protecting the garden. This is a special garden of my family and though I suppose it is not needed, we protect this garden from intruders."

"How does a light protect the whole garden?"

"There is only one entrance, you see. And this light is actually a star. We pulled it from the sky and placed it at the entrance. Anyone who is not of blood decent, or is not invited and accompanied by a member of my family will be burned alive."

Instinctively, Sarah pulled closer to Jareth, awestruck and afraid of the glowing orb, which, as they nearly reached it, was magnified to at least 3 to 4 times their size.

Jareth fought the urge to smile, amused at her fear of the star and delighted that she chose to hide behind him for protection. It may not be much, but it was a start.

"Sarah, you don't have you worry. We are Bonded, and you are now a member of my family. The star would never touch you."

"Why do you have a star protecting the garden, anyway? I thought no one could get here but you."

"Yes, that is true. And it has been true for many thousands of years. But remember, Sarah, that nothing lasts forever. Even for us Immortals. There will be someone or something that comes along that will be able to find its way here, and when they do, this place must be protected."

"Why?" she asked

"You will see."

Sarah began to feel the radiation coming off the star. It was a comforting warmth, not at all like the fiery inferno that she had thought a star would feel like. In the center, she could see the gases swirling in the orb like clouds, glowing white.

It looked breathtaking. She peered up at the star with wide eyes. It was so beautiful.

Jareth glanced at her, and pressed forward, pressing his palm against the orb. At his touch, the swirling gas exploded into the air in a thin fog. There behind it was an old, large solid oak door with a rusty looking handle.

"Come." Jareth said, and tugged her through the fog. The door swung open and they entered.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed ^_^ And please don't forget to give me feedback. I try to edit my chapters as much as I can for fluency and organization, but its really hard to be your own critic, so I need your help! till next time!


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